


Monica von Ochs Must Die.

by idanato



Series: The Darkest Mage Timeline [4]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Black Eagle House, Canonical Character Death, Fake dating for assassination, Game Spoilers, Gen, No Beta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-01-23 10:53:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 40,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21319000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idanato/pseuds/idanato
Summary: Lysithea vanquishes the Death Knight and saves Flayn...and Monica? Who the heck is Monica? Hubert, Dorothea, Lysithea, and Felix figure out she's bad news and must be taken care of. Their bright idea? Hubert will seduce her to assassinate her. Things do not go to plan.Based on game events covering Chapters 6-10
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Lysithea von Ordelia & Hubert von Vestra
Series: The Darkest Mage Timeline [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536886
Comments: 53
Kudos: 127





	1. The Death Knight Unmasked

Lysithea von Ordelia had just single handedly blown a hole through the middle of the Death Knight. Her hands were lightly smoking from the after effects of the spell, but she looked positively alive with the exaltation of having fallen such a menacing enemy. She strode over top the fallen dark mages and other secret operatives, grabbed the Death Knight’s helmet by one of the horns and yanked it off.

Jerizta’s long golden hair tumbled free. His blue eyes were vacant and hooded by his relaxed lids. Lysithea stared down at him, “It was Jeritza all along!”

Felix folded his arms and smirked at Hubert, “I guess you aren’t the Death Knight after all.”

Hubert’s nostrils flared, “Yes I suppose I have a believable alibi, you know, fighting alongside you against him.”

Ferdinand was lifting up Flayn, “We have to take these two to the infirmary.”

_Two?_ Lysithea looked at the unfamiliar redhead being lifted up by Byleth, “Who the hell is this?”

Everyone shrugged, no one had seen the student before. As the class grew consumed with rescuing the two unconscious young ladies, Hubert used their distraction to check out the Death Knight alongside Lysithea. Hubert stepped around the fallen bodies and came to crouch over Jeritza. He delicately removed his handkerchief from his pocket and did the unsavory task of freeing a spiked dark object from within the Death Knight’s corpse.

“A dark seal,” whispered Lysithea as she saw it. The two exchanged a look, as they contemplated the same that lie within them.

“Hubert von Vestra, you put that down this instance,” Hanneman’s authoritative voice cut through the passageway. It seemed reinforcements had finally arrived.

Hubert reluctantly placed the seal on the ground and rose. He looked at the blood and gore on his gloves but did not move to take them off.

“That object is incredibly dangerous,” said Hanneman as he got to Jeritza’s body. He paused in shock, “My word, is that our combat instructor?”

Hubert quietly placed his hands behind his back, “Yes it appears our dear professor Jeritza was in fact our persistent adversary this whole time.”

“Lady Rhea must be informed immediately,” said Hanneman to one of the knights who’d come through the passage with him. “The body should go straight to the morgue.”

As the knights got to moving Jeritza, Hanneman looked over Lysithea, “Nice work young lady, you have quite impressive skill.”

Lysithea beamed despite herself. She liked being called skilled and smart; she loathed having her success merely attributed to her crests. Hanneman had expressed his speculation about the nature of her crests to Lysithea before, but she’d gotten him to back off and he’d been respectful of her privacy so far.

“This is a dark seal,” explained Hanneman as he pointed to the object in Hubert’s bloodied handkerchief. “They are incredibly hard to procure, and a potent source of dark magic. If broken, they are potentially lethal.”

“Potentially?” asked Lysithea as innocently as possible.

“Yes, as von Vestra here seemed to know,” Hanneman paused to give Hubert a suspicious look, “These seals are implanted within the body. If they are broken inside, well, let us just say it doesn’t end well.”

Lysithea’s eyes grew wide as she looked at Hubert. Hubert cleared his throat, “It would take a great deal of force to break one though, correct?”

Hanneman regarded the seal warily, “I cannot say for certain. I’ve heard talk though of mages foolish enough to receive a dark seal that drop dead weeks after a combat injury that was seemingly healing, all because they were slowly being poisoned from the inside.”

“Oh,” said Lysithea and Hubert almost together. Lysithea looked up at Hubert as saw his normally emotionless face just ever so slightly shaken; it was the first time she had ever seen him look truly scared. Lysithea gulped as Hanneman continued to give orders to the knights of Seiros that were coming in.

“Hubert,” said Hanneman quietly, “You ought to burn those gloves, it’s said that dark seals can poison anything they touch.”

“Noted,” said Hubert uncomfortably as he set to turning his gloves inside out. Hanneman stared at Hubert’s hands for a moment, but said nothing about their unpleasant appearance. Hubert gave Lysithea a nod towards the door and they quietly followed after the rest of their Black Eagle classmates.

Lysithea’s heart was racing, “If your dark seal was broken how would you even know?”

“I think it affects ones ability to cast,” whispered Hubert. He looked down at her, “May I ask, where did they put yours?”

Lysithea grimaced and pointed to her side where a scar similar to Hubert’s lay. “Should we get armor or something?”

“I don’t know,” whispered Hubert. He took a deep breath, “When I was holding it I could feel mine almost _moving_.”

“Ew,” whispered Lysithea. “What does that mean?”

“It was like they were drawn towards each other,” said Hubert with distaste. “Like they were alive.”

“How did you know Jeritza would have a dark seal?” Lysithiea narrowed her gaze in on Hubert.

“The way he cast, we were clearly trained by the same people,” said Hubert in a quiet and reflective way. He seemed unfocused, which was very unlike him.

Lysithea hummed as she thought about where the morgue was in this place.

***

Everyone was buzzing about the Death Knight being dead and Flayn being rescued. Lysithea had other priorities.

“Hubie, where’s the morgue?” asked Lysithea between sips of milk in the dining hall.

Hubert gave her an intrigued look, “Why?”

She began to cut up her dinner — steak tonight — and admired the meat, “I’d like to inspect the Death Knight.”

Felix looked at her like she’d just suggested she wanted to eat a baby, “You want to do what?”

“He had a dark seal, I want to know what other kinds of um, modifications, he might have had done,” said Lysithea as if it were obvious. She wanted to see what TWISTD did to a body, as in what they had done to her.

“Keep your voice down,” said Hubert as he looked over at Edelgard and Dorothea talking not that far from them. He looked back at Lysithea, “The morgue is beneath the knight’s hall, by the cemetery.”

“How hard is it to get in?”

“Not that hard,” said Hubert with a shrug.

“What the hell, why are you encouraging this?” Felix looked exasperated by the pair of them.

“Maybe I want to get a look too,” said Hubert nonchalantly.

“So, midnight?” suggested Lysithea.

“No,” said Felix quickly.

“No one says you have to come,” said Hubert. “We can meet by the training grounds.”

“You two are insane,” whispered Felix.

***

Lysithea and Hubert had a bet going: would Felix show up before midnight at the training grounds, or coming running after them as they were on their way to the morgue? On the line was the coveted seat next to Edelgard during class they were currently in a deadlock over.

Hubert threw his long arms up into the air in victory as they spied Felix looking sour outside the great big doors to the training grounds. “I told you so.”

Lysithea frowned, she hated losing although she was a little relieved Felix had shown up. They made their way through the shadows towards the hidden little staircase that led down to the level below the knight’s hall. Once inside there was a long hallway with rooms, most storage according to Hubert, and at the very end, the morgue.

“Why do I have to wait outside?” demanded Felix.

“Someone needs to keep watch,” said Lysithea. “Someone really brave and good with a sword!” Felix glowered but she could tell he was just a little bit pleased by the compliment.

“You want to trade with me? You can do the autopsy,” offered Hubert dryly.

“I’ll keep watch,” said Felix as his eyes locked onto the hallway.

Hubert and Lysithea opened the door and Lysithea was surprised that it wasn’t actually all that scary. There were shelves filled with the fallen enemies from earlier and a couple large marble slabs where bodies were prepared. They were tilted ever so slightly, so that any juices could drain away. With the torches lit it was almost warm looking inside.

On the first slab was Jeritza. Lysithea had to get up on her tip toes to see him. With all his armor stripped away he was just a man, albeit with a sizable gaping hole in his middle. The Death Knight’s damaged suit was neatly piled in a corner of the room. Lysithea had to give it to herself, she’d really destroyed him.

They spent some time going through the shelves seeing if they could find anything worthwhile on the bodies. Lysithea grabbed a weird medallion and Hubert had found a magical staff, but otherwise there was not much to be gleaned or looted from the dead bodies.

They returned their attention to the main star of the show, Jeritza. Lysithea reached out to touch the scar where the dark seal had been embedded. Yet it was the scar over top Jeritza’s sternum that had her most interested.

Hubert rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. One might have mistaken him for a butcher as he pulled free his little roll of knives. There were thick ones, thin ones, ones for sticking in eyes. With great reluctance Hubert palpated the sternal scar, “They must have done something to his heart.” He looked at his knives, “I don’t know if we should do this.”

“I thought you didn’t have limits,” protested Lysithea.

“Of course I have limits,” he whispered. Hubert looked at her doubtfully, “I think we should just leave this to Rhea’s people, we can steal their notes after. But if we do this, and we get caught, I don’t have a way out for us.” He was rolling his knives back up.

“But we might not ever find out what was inside him,” she argued. This was their one opportunity to get a first hand look at what TWSITD had done to someone. Lysithea needed to know for her own sake, because it was likely she looked the same inside.

Hubert sighed, “I’ll tell you what, I’ll dig him up for you if I have to, but I don’t think we should do this now.”

“Oh so some light grave robbing followed by desecration is okay, but not when he’s literally on an autopsy table?” hissed Lysithea.

“Do you want to do it?” Hubert offered her the roll of knives.

Lysithea shut her mouth. It was one thing to watch, it was another to actually cut into a corpse.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” whispered Hubert as he went towards the door. He paused, listening, and rapidly turned around.

“What is it —” Lysithea started.

“Don’t speak, breathe quietly,” ordered Hubert under his breath as he lifted her. Lysithea didn’t even have time to voice her protest as Hubert shoved her inside the free standing supply closet and shut the door. Lysithea laid down on the floor of the closet and could just see through the scant gap at the bottom of the closet door. She saw Hubert advancing toward the entrance of the morgue and the room flashed red with black magic, with a purple flash of dark magic returned almost instantly. The closet rattled from the impact of Hubert’s body being thrown against it and he fell, blocking her single source of light. Lysithea covered her mouth to stop from yelling out.

Lysithea didn’t dare to move in the total darkness. She strained to hear as two men could be heard talking inside the room.

“Is that von Vestra’s son?” asked one of them with a hint of pleasure in his voice. “You could have killed him.”

“Next time I might,” said the other in a cool authoritative voice. “Hopefully this teaches him to keep his greasy head down.” It was a voice that chilled Lysithea to her bones; it was a voice she remembered from the darkness when she was young.

Lysithea could hear them shifting something around in the room.

“Solon, where is his dark seal?” demanded the colder one.

“Oh,” said the one named Solon reluctantly. “It’s in the office of one of the professors, uh, Hanneman I believe he’s called.”

The cold one sighed, “How difficult will it be to retrieve?”

“No trouble at all,” promised Solon. “I can have it by tomorrow, easily.”

“Good, now get Jeritza repaired,”

An intense purple light bathed the room and seemed to permeate into the closet. Lysithea heard a deep guttural moan and two bare feet slapping against the stone floor.

“Welcome back Jeritza, I heard you were killed by a little girl,” teased Solon.

Whatever he was talking to merely grunted.

“Enough Solon, I need to get him out of here,” ordered the other man.

“Of course Thales, what would you have me do with the young Vestra?” Solon sounded very amused, “I could coerce him to tell me what he was planning on doing here this evening. Maybe since he never had Jeritza in life, he thought he might have him in death!”

Thales snorted, “He’s just poking his nose where it doesn’t belong, it’s pathological with that creature.” Thales’ voice returned to its strong authoritative bent, “Leave him here. Direct Kronya to get close to the princess, we can use her to replace Edelgard’s favorite pet. That would make things much easier.” He snapped his fingers, “Jeritza, with me.”

Lysithea heard the three leave the room. She waited until there was total silence before she dared to press against the closet door. It would not budge, and she was trapped in by Hubert’s body. Lysithea did not enjoy the dark. She especially did not enjoy the dark in the morgue.

Her mind wandered to what might have become of Felix. If he was smart he had abandoned his post to get help. However Lysithea wasn’t convinced that Felix was very smart at all, in fact he was often quite stubborn and stupid. It was likely he was passed out, or worse, in the hall.

Someone surely would come, even if not until the morning. They would find the three of them, but no Jeritza. Lysithea pulled at her hair in frustration, there was no way out of this that looked good for them. Even if she could convince Seteth that there were two strange men — Solon and Thales? — that had come and somehow resurrected Jeritza, it was still pretty unbelievable and didn’t account for what the three students were doing down here with all the tools for desecrating a body. A body that was now missing.

Lysithea knocked on the door, and then began to bang, “Hubert! Wake up! Wake the fuck up!” She pressed her back against the wall and used her legs — what had Claude called her once, toothpick legs? She’d show him! — against the door and pressed with all her might. For a brief second the door opened about an inch and then her stupid toothpick legs got tired and the closet shut once more. Lysithea grunted in frustration and kicked the door to no avail.

The door to the morgue could be heard opening again, “Oh shit—” it was Felix.

Lysithea started pounding on the closet door, “Get me out of here!”

She never thought that a pained groan from Hubert could fill her with such joy. She could here him being shifted just away far enough for her to burst out of the closet. Breathlessly she took in the state of the room. The great slab Jeritza had been laying on was empty. His armor was gone. In fact there was no trace at all that he had ever been there at all.

Felix hugged her, “You’re okay! When those guys entered the room, and I heard —” He paused and then released her looking almost embarrassed by the outburst of emotion. “I’m glad you’re not hurt.”

The same could not be said for Hubert, who was taking shallow breaths and looking up at Mercedes von Martritz.


	2. Crisis Management

“Why are you here?” demanded Lysithea of the wayward member of the Blue Lion house.

Mercedes looked like she was in shock as she mumbled something about a brother.

“Why is she here?” Lysithea looked at Felix.

“Uh, long story, I think we really need to deal with Hubert first.”

Lysithea snapped her fingers, “Mercedes, heal him, now.”

Mercedes still looked spaced out as she stared down at Hubert and his broken forearm. The bones were poking out from the skin, snapped clear in two. That was not ideal. Hubert was white knuckled as he gripped the inside of his arm above the injury trying to slow the flow of blood. This was not something a little white magic was going to mend.

Lysithea grumbled, of course she had to fix this problem. She looked around at them and decided that she would warp them to the infirmary. It was next to Hanneman’s office -- two birds with one stone!

“Gather in,” she ordered as she grabbed Felix by the arm and forced him into the huddle around Hubert.

They did not land in the infirmary, but they were close.

“Where the hell did you just take us?” Felix was looking around at the desk and bookshelves in the darkened room.

“I was aiming for the infirmary,” said Lysithea as she studied a child’s fish drawing framed on the desk. “I think we’re just a few doors down.”

“No infirmary,” wheezed Hubert as he tried to get up. He quickly gave up on that. His teeth were clenched and he looked even more angry than usual.

“I’m going to Hanneman’s to get that dark seal,” she announced

“What, no!” said Felix as he stopped her from warping away. “Why?”

“The people who did this to Hubert need it, I’m not letting them have it!”

Hubert coughed, which sounded quite painful, “Destroy it.”

“Sure, sure,” promised Lysithea. _Yeah right_. If she couldn’t investigate the secrets of Jeritza’s body, at least she could experiment with that dark seal.

She warped out into the hall, found Hanneman’s office and popped inside. The Dark Seal was suspended in a jar in some clear substance, and sat on the center of Hanneman’s desk. Lysithea picked it up, and thought about where she could hide it. She grinned as she thought up the perfect place to warp to.

***

Felix wondered how they were going to get out of this locked office if Lysithea wasn’t back soon. He didn’t have to speculate long when the office’s owner burst in holding a candle, and wearing just his nightgown and matching sleep cap. Seteth looked pissed.

“What in Zanado is going on in here?” Behind Seteth, Felix could see other faculty. Jeralt was holding a pretty big lance and Hanneman was preparing to cast.

Felix held up his hands, “We were heading to the infirmary?”

Seteth looked down at Hubert who was presently getting blood on the carpet and at Mercedes who still looked like she had seen her zombie brother waltzing past when Felix had pulled her into a storage room to hide. She had been coming to check if Jeritza really was her estranged brother Emile, and had found out in the most shocking way possible that yes, yes he was.

Hubert was resisting being carried across the hall but he was no match for Jeralt. Hanneman was gently guiding Mercedes, and that left Felix with Seteth.

“How did you get in here,” demanded Seteth.

“Mercedes warped us here,” lied Felix.

Seteth scratched his chin, “She doesn’t look like she’s capable of warping anyone anywhere right now.”

“Why do you think we landed in the wrong room?” Felix blustered. It seemed pretty legitimate to him.

“What happened to von Vestra?” Seteth’s dark green eyes searched Felix for signs of dishonesty.

Felix swallowed, “Uh we were just walking back from study group --”

“Study group?” Demanded Seteth.

“Yeah, Hubert runs a study group, it’s advertised on the bulletin board,” said Felix; it didn’t matter that it was a Monday and not a Thursday, hopefully Seteth wouldn’t be doing too much follow up. “Well it ran really late tonight because of how hard our homework is this week.” That was true. Byleth neither held back on the battlefield nor in the lecture hall.

“Go on,” said Seteth as he stared down Felix.

“We were passing the training grounds when we saw two men, and they were,” Felix took a deep breath, “They were walking with Jeritza.”

“Jeritza is dead,” said Seteth, unamused.

“Yeah well check the morgue, he’s not there,” challenged Felix. “I know what I saw, he was definitely up and walking.”

“This is preposterous,” whispered Seteth. “And fails to explain what happened to von Vestra.”

“They saw us so Hubert engaged them,” said Felix. “So we could get away.” That was about as close to the truth as Felix could get without admitting that actually Hubert was just caught in the morgue by two badder dudes than him.

Seteth sighed, and gestured for Felix to follow him across the hall to the infirmary. It was chaos inside. Flayn was sitting up and on the edge of her bed taking in the action. Jeralt was forcibly restraining Hubert as Manuela was unsuccessfully trying to treat him.

The other girl rescued from the Death Knight was also sitting up, watching with an almost angry confusion at having been woken up in such a way.

“Hubert, if you don’t calm down, I’m going to have to knock you out,” threatened Manuela. She also looked less than pleased about being woken up at 1 am while recovering from her own stab wound. “That’s it, Hanneman, chloroform, now.”

Hubert’s struggling began to fade as they administered it against his fighting.

“Flayn, don’t watch this,” said Seteth sharply as he blocked her view.

“I could be helping,” said Flayn as she tried to peek around him.

Felix didn’t really want to watch while Hubert’s arm was exposed in all it’s broken glory. Instead he sat on the bed Mercedes was sitting on. She was staring at the floor, “Mercie, it’s going to be okay.” Felix looked up as the adults were conferring over what they were finding as they stripped off Hubert’s bloody shirt. It was most definitely not going to be okay.

***

Lysithea knew better than to warp straight back to Seteth’s office. She’d instead landed herself down in the other hall in a council chamber. She didn’t have to listen hard to hear that shit was going down near the infirmary. She quietly warped to her room to wait it all out, no sense in losing sleep over things that were far out of her hands. She woke up some time very early in the morning as Mercedes was delivered back to her room. Annette was brought in, and it sounded bad.

Lysithea pulled on her little chore coat and slippers and shuffled over to Mercedes’ room, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Annette was perched at Mercedes’ beside and looked up in surprise, “Oh, oh no did we disturb you?”

Lysithea waved her off, “I get up around now to study anyway.” Mercedes was lying in her bed, still in her clothes, on top of all the covers. The young woman was facing the wall, and while she was almost silent, Lysithea knew well the sound of hidden tears.

“Maybe I could make tea,” suggested Lysithea.

Annette nodded and mouthed “Thank you” as she gently brushed Mercedes hair with her fingers.

On the bright side, Mercedes was so massively disturbed she was unlikely to tell anyone that Lysithea had also been at the morgue last night. Lysithea had hidden the dark seal away where no one was going to look for it, and had taken the items she and Hubert had looted and buried them deep in her closet. There was no direct evidence to link her to the unfortunate events unless Felix or Hubert told on her.

Lysithea sat on the floor of Mercedes’ room with her warm mug while she wondered what had happened to Felix. Her question didn’t stay unanswered for long as Blue Lion after Blue Lion showed up to comfort and console Merecedes. Lysithea quietly extracted herself from the room and saw Felix lingering outside, “You should probably head in there.”

Felix looked pained as he stared inside at his former housemates, “I don’t know.”

“Just get in there,” said Lysithea as she pushed him towards his old friends. He was warmly welcomed back into their fold as they saw to Mercedes needs. Lysithea sighed; they might have both become Black Eagles in name, but she had a feeling that deep in his heart Felix was always going to be a Blue Lion.

Hanneman showed up not long after, looking like he hadn’t slept a wink. Lysithea hung around to listen in, “There’s been an incident in which unknown persons made off with the body of Jeritza, and attacked students, including Mercedes.” Hanneman looked at his students as if proud of their coming together to support Mercedes. Lysithea had a tough time imagining the Black Eagles all crowding into the infirmary to comfort Hubert. “In light of what’s happened, we will not be holding classes today.” He paused. “I’ll be in my office if anyone needs to talk, but assume that classes will resume tomorrow.”

Manuela had also canceled class since she’d just been stabbed and needed a break from teaching. Byleth didn’t seem to understand what the big deal was. Lysithea sat herself next to Edelgard, who looked positively perturbed. “Hubert is in the infirmary, I tried to visit and was turned away by Seteth, can you believe it?”

“Oh no, what happened to him?” Lysithea tried her best to sound like she had no idea about last night.

“He was attacked,” said Edelgard curtly. “On campus no less. And apparently he was with Mercedes and Felix at 1 in the morning,” Edelgard’s voice trailed off as she trained her violet eyes on Lysithea, “You didn’t have anything to do with this did you?”

“Absolutely not,” lied Lysithea as she opened her textbook. “I have learned my lesson not to attack Hubert. I rather like him now thank you very much.” The big goon had grown on her and it was nice to have someone to practice dark magic with.

Edelgard made a small sound of discontentment and Lysithea made sure to be extra careful with her words. Edelgard seemed to sniff out lies like it was her job.

“He’s going to be okay though right?” Lysithea was feeling guilty that Hubert had essentially taken the fall for the four of them, and she hadn’t even properly checked up on him.

“They would only tell me that he was sleeping,” said Edelgard with frustration. “Hubert doesn’t sleep. Especially not after the sun is up. Not when there’s work to do.” She was staring at the board and frowning, clearly highly distracted from the lecture. Lysithea really wished she had sat somewhere else.

At lunch time Edelgard disappeared and Lysithea found herself in a nearly empty dining hall. The Blue Lions and Golden Deer students were all enjoying their day off, not forced to eat at the scheduled lunch hour. Felix had cut class. Lysithea shook her head, _slacker_, and found Dorothea who was holding court with the ladies of the Black Eagles.

Bernadetta was looking especially anxious, “If someone on campus would dare attack someone as scary as Hubert, well I don’t even want to think what they would do to me.” She frowned, “I really want to make him something that says I hope he feels better, that’s much easier than actually telling him.”

“Bake him some cookies?” suggested Lysithea.

“No, Hubert is hating sweet things,” said Petra with a shake of her head.

“Maybe he would like something coffee flavored though,” suggested Dorothea.

“Oh yeah that’s a nice idea, chocolate espresso cookies could be good,” said Bernadetta. “But I was thinking more of a ‘get well soon’ cross stitch.”

“He’s going to need a sling,” said Lysithea. “Can you sew one, and we could decorate it?”

“Hubert would be less scary with a sling covered in embroidered flowers,” mused Bernadetta quietly.

Lysithea tried not to laugh at the mental image. Hubert was going to be so mad, but he was also the type of person who would feel obligated to wear such an embarrassing thing simply because it was a gift from Bernadetta. He was going to look ridiculous, “That sounds like an excellent idea.”

“I heard Mercie was with him, and she’s really upset,” said Dorothea sadly as she looked around the desolate dining hall. “The rumor is that Jeritza was really her younger brother, but they were estranged, so they didn’t really get to talk about each other before, well, you know.”

Lysithea’s stomach sank as she put together that when she took out the Death Knight, she had killed Mercedes brother. She had never really considered that the Death Knight was someone’s son, or someone’s brother. Killing on a battlefield was one thing, but in those cases, it wasn’t like Lysithea actually knew those people, or their families. This felt much more personal. She knew she had done a good thing, so why did she suddenly feel so incredibly bad?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeritza DLC came out today! This fic will not keep up with that 'cause he's mostly a zombie in it. 
> 
> I restarted Crimson Flower today mostly for that (and more Hubert, obviously); someday I'll finish the Golden Deer route...


	3. Hubert Undone.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a sad Hubie chapter, but it ends on a lighter note I promise.

Hubert had been put in a bed by the wall. He sat in it now since laying down on his bruised back and broken ribs was agony. He got as close to the corner of the room as he possibly could. He had been given a pair of pajama pants to wear, loaned by Hanneman, but no shirt. He shivered as he leaned his shoulder against the wall and tried to fold into as small a shape as he could.

There was no point in hiding anything now. Every major scar had been seen, from the little notches that ran down the course of his spine, to the great ugly patch that was his dark seal. The TWSITD tattoo, where it had been cut in two, and all the little marks he’d collected over the years were no longer his precious secret.

He’d been told that Lady Edelgard had come by while he was still sleeping, but they were not allowing him visitors. The other girl, Monica, had been cleared and released; she was simply the picture of good health. It was just him and Flayn in the sunny infirmary. From the window Hubert could see students walking around and he wished he was down there with them. As far as prisons went, the infirmary was pleasant, but it was a prison nonetheless.

“Hubert, what’s your favorite animal?” Flayn was busy drawing.

“Pegasus,” whispered Hubert as he studied where Manuela had bandaged up his right arm in a splint. His elbow was locked in place to stop him from rotating or bending the arm. Just wiggling his fingers hurt like hell, but at least it meant he still had feeling. He felt really stupid about bringing black magic into a dark magic fight.

He could hear the crayons pausing, Flayn was silent and then laughed, “Good one Hubert, I recognize when people are making jokes. What is it really?”

“It’s really a pegasus,” he said. Hubert wondered if he endeared himself to Flayn if that might stop Seteth from executing him. It seemed like a bad plan. From the little he’d interacted with her, he had gleaned that Flayn liked good and handsome boys, of which Hubert was neither.

She hung her interpretation of a flying equine up on the wall near his bed, “There you go, I hope it makes you feel better.” He estimated she had to be thirteen or fourteen; a late bloomer still in that awkward phase between being a child and growing up. He envied her, at thirteen Hubert was being trained by ill tempered Slithers in dark magic and weaponry. He hadn’t be a child in a _long_ time.

“Kid, just looking at you is making me cold, here,” said Jeralt gruffly as he tossed a dark sweater onto Hubert’s bed. “I took it from the lost and found.”

It was big enough, but clearly knit for someone with much more muscle than Hubert. It smelled like smoke, not from black magic, but from a campfire. Hubert pulled it on gratefully and then resumed his solitary stare at the wall. They had put the most accomplished Knight of Seiros, the Blade Breaker, on guard duty to watch over him. That was not promising.

“Say Flayn, you know any card games?” asked Jeralt. He seemed extremely bored with his assignment baby sitting these two.

“Of course I play cards, I know all about go fish,” said Flayn excitedly.

“Can’t play with just two people,” said Jeralt. Hubert didn’t have to look to know that the older knight was staring at him. Hubert wasn’t going to argue that two people could play a whole host of card games and that he didn’t need to participate.

“Hubert, please play go fish with us,” asked Flayn sweetly. If this was how Seteth was planning to torture Hubert, he was succeeding.

Hubert silently joined the other two as Jeralt dealt them each a hand. Hubert spoke only as much as he needed to when it was his turn. Flayn and Jeralt were talking about fishing ad nauseam; Hubert didn’t really have much to add to their conversation. Instead he tried to focus on the whispers that were happening in the hall.

Jeritza’s body was missing and there were unverified rumors he’d been resurrected by dark mages. The dark seal had been stolen from Hanneman’s office sometime in the night. Hubert hoped that was Lysithea’s doing and not someone else. Monica was Monica von Ochs, a student that had gone missing last school year. Apparently she’d been the Death Knight’s captive this whole time. That made Hubert extremely uncomfortable. There were many things he wasn’t privy to about those working with and for the Flame Emperor, despite his efforts to get said information. He didn’t want Edelgard associated with the kind of person who would keep a teenage girl hostage for a whole year under the monastery, and then snatch a little girl like Flayn to add to the collection. Jeritza was clearly into some dangerous and unforgivable territory with his tastes, and Hubert relished in the idea of Jeritza dying a second time at his hands.

After a few rounds of go fish, Jeralt was bored again, “You know Adrestrian poker?”

Hubert looked up. Of course he knew Adrestrian poker, “Do you have the right kind of deck on you?”

Jeralt smiled, “Flayn, you want to learn a new card game?”

“There are other card games?” Flayn was beside herself with joy at the thought.

Hubert shook his head in disbelief at how small her world must be as Jeralt pulled out the large 78 card deck and began to shuffle it. When they had their hands Hubert looked at his cards, it was an okay spread, and looked at Jeralt, “So which one of us is the adversary?”

“Eh, I want the pile,” said Jeralt as he picked up the center stack of cards and sorted through it. It meant that Hubert and Flayn were essentially a team focused on beating Jeralt for the round.

Flayn had become very serious as she studied her cards, “This is more complicated than go fish.” There were four suits and then the 21 trump cards to contend with, and all of them had little rules to remember. The final scoring system to determine the winner had been crafted by lunatics.

“You’ll get it,” said Hubert. He had learned when he was eight, during the summer that Edelgard had taken flying lessons. Hubert had spent a lot of time with the guards playing cards while waiting on her to return safely to the ground. “What are we betting on?” Hubert hated gambling, it was risky, but he wasn’t above cheating to get what he needed.

Jeralt looked at him and laughed, “You’re in an infirmary in borrowed clothes and your only possession is the kid’s pegasus drawing.”

“Well if we win, I would like to take a visitor,” said Hubert as he tested the waters with his present jailer.

“I’ll have to take into account who’s trying to visit,” said Jeralt.

The games helped to pass the time until finally Seteth arrived at the infirmary. “Jeralt I asked you to guard the infirmary and keep the peace, not teach my sister how gamble.”

“Brother, did you know there are other card games?”

Seteth sighed and shook his head, “von Vestra, a word in my office, please.”

Hubert neatly stacked his cards and handed them back to Jeralt. He did not think he’d be back to finish any games. He crossed into Seteth’s office, where he was quite accustomed to having detention, and took his usual seat. He could not help but stare at his blood still staining the carpet. It looked like it was going to be very difficult to clean. _Sorry Cyril_, he mused.

“I’ve been trying to verify information between Felix and Mercedes, although I must say she is not taking things well, and it has been very difficult to form a picture of events last night,” said Seteth slowly. “Felix would like me to believe you engaged two strangers that were somehow, eh, how can I put this, walking around with our recently deceased combat instructor.” Seteth cleared his throat, “I do know that Jeritza’s body is gone, and that this was found in the morgue.” Seteth held up Hubert’s roll of knives. “Is this familiar to you?”

“I’ve never seen that before,” said Hubert as he maintained a cool staring contest with Seteth.

“Strange because inside, I found some knives that I distinctly remember confiscating from you, knives that mysteriously found their way out of my desk drawer,”

“Sounds like you need better locks in your office,” said Hubert with a smirk.

“This isn’t funny von Vestra,” said Seteth. “You are currently under suspicion of doing something highly questionable with a dead body, and then there is the matter of your own body.”

There it was. Hubert felt the slow creep of heat coming up his neck as his flushing skin betrayed him. Hubert lost his staring contest and was now looking everywhere but into Seteth’s eyes. This was to be his undoing.

“Where did you even get a dark seal in the first place Hubert? How did you know how to implant it?”

Hubert choked on his shock. “You, you think I did these things to myself?” He fumbled with the too big sweater and pulled it free, exposing his bony back, “How could I have even reached half of these places?”

“Then who did this to you?” demanded Seteth.

Hubert had been trained to be quiet under duress. He wanted to point to each mark and yell at Seteth who had carved what out him. Everyone had taken their piece it seemed. Yet he stayed silent.

Seteth sighed and leaned against his desk. He folded his arms and frowned, “I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me.”

Seteth’s offer of help was coming seven years too late for Hubert. When he closed his eyes he could still see the long beaked masks crowding around him and his father behind them, watching the procedure with cold indifference. His dear father had yelled at him afterward for having to be restrained to the table; apparently Hubert was expected to be still through the pain. After the procedure, puberty had hit Hubert like a ton of bricks. He had been perhaps 5’5” beforehand, and then in a short span of a few painful months he’d shot up to 6’2”. He’d always been a relatively skinny child and not especially good at sports, but after getting the dark seal he’d actually begun to excel in physical and magical strength. Around the same time, Edelgard had been returned, white haired and silent, and had been handed an axe. The two were expected to train for hours each day together. After their weapons training, they were forced to practice their dark magic for a few more hours. Unlike Garreg Mach, there were no days off, and instead of mundane chores for detention there was corporal punishment.

Edelgard’s procedures were decidedly different from Hubert’s. She did not grow very much at all after the things that had been done to her, but she did become incredibly strong, and with her strength grew a simmering anger. They had made quite the pair of loners around the quiet palace: a gangly boy who had matured too fast, and a listless girl who barely spoke and only glared. It was in the desolate halls that Edelgard and Hubert had begun to hatch their grand plans for revenge against those who had done this to them. They had made their pact in those days that they were going to have their justice, even if it killed them in the end.

Now Hubert had risked exposing them both with his stupid curiosity. Hubert took a deep breath and prepared his story. The best lies were always seeded with truth, “My father told me that to be a von Vestra means that ones body, heart, and mind belong to the Emperor. He told me I was a weapon, a shield, an instrument to be used as they see fit.” He looked up at Seteth, ready to say whatever he had to get free of this, “I came here under the guise of service to my liege, but in truth, I just wanted to get away from Enbarr, away from my father.” Better to be perceived as disloyal than to have his loyalty doom them both.

Seteth seemed to be taking in the words, “I will consider what you’ve told me. In the meantime, you will remain under watch in the infirmary.”

“May I have visitors, please” Hubert desperately needed to talk to Edelgard.

Seteth nodded, “But not privately, whatever is said will be in the presence of Jeralt.”

“Understood,” said Hubert. He rose to return to the infirmary to count down the hours until class would be out. Surely Edelgard would come back then.

“von Vestra, we’re not done here,” said Seteth sharply as he pulled out a stack of papers. “Just because you are infirm does not mean you cannot uphold your duties to the school paper.” Duties was an overstatement, it was compulsory punishment in place of regular detention.

Hubert wanted to throttle Seteth. Who could else could follow such an emotional line of questioning with busy work? Hubert held up his lame arm, “I’m right handed. How am I supposed to work?”

“Slowly, with your left hand,” said Seteth, clearly taking satisfaction from this, as he deposited the papers into Hubert’s unwilling arms.

Hours passed. Flayn was perched on a chair at the foot of Hubert’s bed watching him work. He had spread out all the articles Seteth wanted him to review; apparently Hubert was the de facto associate editor now, meaning that he had to correct all of the various grammatical and spelling mistakes before they crossed Seteth’s desk. Petra’s article was going to be an absolute nightmare. He would leave the censorship to Seteth. Hubert didn’t care to silence honest opinions.

His snarky advice column, _Throwing Shade_, was a surprise hit. He was doing it anonymously, and Garreg Mach was exploding with speculation of who it could be. People had suggested faculty members, knights, even the front gate guard, but the prevailing hypothesis was that it was Claude, and the stupid Golden Deer wasn’t denying it. Hubert would find a way to subtly dig at the lord in the column until he forced von Riegan to admit it wasn’t him. Seteth had recruited Claude to make the cryptogram, which also drove Hubert crazy. So far, three issues in, all Claude had done was variations on “fear the deer” as different puzzles. Hubert would have made the most impossible puzzles this school had ever seen.

“I wish my brother would let me help with the paper,” said Flayn, sounding the most glum Hubert had ever heard her.

Hubert was the associate editor, he could give her a job, “Would you like an assignment?”

“Yes, please! I realize I am not a student, but I wish I was,” said Flayn dreamily.

“Done. You are our new fish forecaster,” said Hubert. Technically it was Linhardt’s job, but Lin never turned in anything on time. Hubert had a feeling Flayn was going to do a much better job.

“Really? Oh thank you Hubert, I will not let you down,” said Flayn enthusiastically. “I will work on it as soon as I can get down to the pond.”

“Good,” said Hubert as he read over Dorothea’s follow up to her poofy pants article. Apparently now she was tackling women’s fashion by comparing under boob and over boob corsets. Seteth was not going to like that at all. Hubert carefully edited it for grammar but did not touch the content, he wanted Seteth to read it in its full glory.

Finally, Edelgard arrived with the professor. Edelgard had brought him his own pajamas, thankfully, and a few other personal effects, including a very special stuffed pegasus that he was embarrassed had made such a long journey out of the safety of his dorm room.

“Hey Flayn,” said Byleth as she jerked her head towards the door, “You wanna come talk to your brother with me? I want to ask him about that thing we were discussing earlier.”

Flayn cheerfully followed, leaving Hubert alone with Edelgard. The imperial princess looked like she had been sleeping poorly, and he felt badly for causing her any stress.

“My uncle is here,” said Edelgard with a tight expression. Jeralt was out in the hall, and they had a few moments of minimal privacy. “He informed me of what he did to you.” Edelgard paused, “Do you care to explain why you were poking around Jeritza’s body last night?”

Hubert’s throat was bone dry. “I was interested in understanding what had been done to him to make him so strong. I did not realize that they would be coming to collect their asset, or I wouldn’t have been there.”

“Of course they came for him,” hissed Edelgard. She looked like she was beside herself with frustration, “Now they don’t have his dark seal, any idea where that might have landed?”

Hubert held up his splinted arm, “That is out of my hands I assure you.”

Edelgard rubbed her hand along her chin, “I know why you take actions without my knowledge, but did it ever occur to you to run something like this by me?”

“I did not think you would want to know that I was poking around a corpse,” whispered Hubert.

“Well he’s not a corpse anymore,” said Edelgard curtly. She composed herself, “It’s fine, it’s over now. I’m glad you weren’t more seriously injured.” Edelgard sighed and took Hubert’s left hand, “You need to rest. You’re clearly overworking yourself between,” she paused and chose her whispered words carefully, “Between things to do with the Empire, and the facade of school.” She gave a damning look at all the papers he had spread around himself.

Hubert felt his stomach plummeting at her words. “I’m not overworked, I can handle this. It’s just a broken arm.” He wasn’t going to tell her about the broken ribs and the terrible bruising that made each breath hurt.

Edelgard gave him a sharp look, “_Just_ a broken arm, remember that. I was warned that if you continued to insist on being involved with everything, that it would be far worse next time. You may be content to be reckless with your life, but I am not.”

Hubert felt his face burning with shame, “I’m not reckless.”

Edelgard looked extremely disappointed with him, “I am suspending you from your duties as my retainer until you heal.”

“No,” whispered Hubert, horrified. His chest grew tight and painful as he processed her request.

Edelgard squeezed his hand, it was meant to be comforting, but her immense strength made it hurt all the more, “I often wonder what your life would be like if you weren’t dedicated to me and our cause. I see you with the others, and cannot help but imagine you just as a normal student actually enjoying your life.”

“I enjoy my service to you,” said Hubert softly. It was his life, the very core of his identity.

“I know, but I’m worried that if you persist in _bothering_ our associates that you will be prematurely removed from my side,” said Edelgard calmly. “My uncle has provided me with someone to work closely with as we approach the second phase of the plan. You must take this time to recover and keep out of trouble with them. I need you at full power when the time comes.”

Hubert looked up at the ceiling and wished that the building would just collapse upon him.

Edelgard continued, “You are my friend, my best friend, this is to protect you, not to punish you, please realize that.”

Byleth had returned and Edelgard sat up and released Hubert’s hand. The conversation was over, there would be no arguing, no pleading, no grovelling to be reinstated. He thought of what he’d said to Seteth about being the Emperor’s instrument; there was no use for a broken weapon. He’d been discarded.

Byleth pulled a big stack of papers from her bag, “To keep you caught up while you're here. I expect this to be completed when you return to class on Monday.”

“I’m coming back to class?” whispered Hubert weakly.

“Yeah I just had a little chat with Seteth, he’ll let you leave the infirmary in a few days, assuming good behavior,” said Byleth casually. She grew serious, “I vouched for you, don’t make me regret it von Vestra.”

“I’ll need my textbooks to finish this,” said Hubert emptily as he looked over the assignments. Nothing mattered to him less than homework right now.

Byleth grinned at him, it was never good when she was grinning, “Oh don’t worry, I assigned one of your classmates to help carry your books.”

“Who?” Hubert didn’t want to know. _Please be Petra, or Dorothea, even Caspar or Linhardt? Anyone but --_

From the hall Jeralt could be heard asking, “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Me, why, I am Ferdinand von Aegir!” rang out a pompous voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adrestrian Poker is based on French Tarot (the most complicated card game I know how to play). 
> 
> Also, if you're wondering how Hubert got involved with the school newspaper, it's covered in pt. 2 (the bad advice box).


	4. Meet Monica!

Lysithea might have lost rights to the seat next to Edelgard in her bet with Hubert, but Hubie was absent, and the redhead was in the seat. “Excuse me, this is my seat,” said Lysithea pleasantly as her eyes bored into Monica. Could she kill with a stare? She could try.

Monica giggled and bit her lip, “We don’t have assigned seats, so I’m afraid it’s _not_ your seat seeing as I’m sitting in it. Or do you not understand how chairs work?” She stared at Lysithea with her big eyes filled with contempt and amusement.

Lysithea understood bashing a chair over this girl’s head. She flared her nostrils and marched away to sit with Felix.

Byleth was looking at her clipboard, “Uh, class this is — what was your name again?”

“Monica von Ochs,” smiled Monica. Lysithea found it weird that she said Ochs like “a-ch” rather than something more like “ox”; did she not even know how her own territory was pronounced? Lysithea supposed though she had been a captive for a while, maybe she was a little touched in the head.

“Right,” said Byleth slowly in a way that suggested she did not care at all. “Monica is going to finish out the school year with us, so she can complete her two remaining credits for graduation,” said Byleth flatly. “We also have another new addition,” she gestured to the back of the classroom, “Flayn will be joining the Black Eagles as well.” Flayn was beaming as she came in and took a seat near the front.

Lysithea and Felix exchanged confused looks; this classroom was getting crowded. Lysithea raised her hand, “Professor, when will Hubert be back?” Hubert would put Monica in her place over the chair, and then Lysithea would find a way to weasel her way back into it instead.

“After the weekend,” yawned Byleth. “He’ll be in a cast for six weeks so, this brings me to my next item of business, the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. We’ve had a lot of recent changes to our roster and I’m concerned about how everyone will work together, so I’m instituting an extra field practice every Wednesday evening.” Caspar cheered, Linhardt groaned.

Byleth checked some items off her clipboard, “Also, after Claude’s most recent prank, Seteth would like me to tell you that anyone else caught engaging in his words, tomfoolery or other mischief, will be in store for some serious detention.”

“Can Hubert even do magic with a broken arm?” whispered Felix as the lecture started up.

Lysithea thought it over, she’d never had to cast one handed, “Maybe. He can’t do all the spells, but he might be able to do some.” White magic could be done one handed sometimes, and there were some black magic spells that weren’t too complicated. She wasn’t sure about dark magic, Hubert’s real specialty.

As class continued Lysithea persisted in glaring at Monica. Stupid red hair, stupid little braided buns, stupid whispering into Edelgard’s ear and making the princess laugh. _That seat is mine_, thought Lysithea declaratively.

As they took their mid-morning break, Lysithea watched Monica following Edelgard to the bathroom. They seemed awfully close. Lysithea looked at Felix, “What do you think of Monica?”

“I don’t think of Monica,” said Felix as he doodled a drawing of an elaborate sword in his notebook.

Lysithea’s Hubert senses were tingling; he would not tolerate that seat stealer being so close to his Lady love. “I think we ought to investigate her.”

“Yeah that went so well last time,” grunted Felix.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that she was a hostage for a year but is basically fine just days after being rescued?” Lysithea didn’t want to imagine what being the Death Knight’s hostage was like, but it probably wasn’t cakes and tea.

Felix frowned, “I guess you have a point.” He looked at her carefully, “But, don’t you think we should wait for Hubert? I don’t think he’ll appreciate it if we just do this on our own.”

“_Pfft_, what are you mommy Hubert’s little baby?” challenged Lysithea. “Anyway, I think he’ll be proud of us for taking initiative.”

“I’ll help you on the condition of no kidnapping this time,” said Felix grumpily.

Lysithea did not make any promises.

***

Hubert was alone in the infirmary now more than ever. Maneula had removed his stitches and used magic to heal over the skin on his arm. It was a gnarly scar, even by Hubert’s standards. Now he was in a plaster cast from hand to elbow. The only positive thing about it was that he could easily hide a knife in it, but he’d still have to use his non-dominant hand to use it.

He was literally counting down the days to his release. Seteth had promised Hubert could leave on Sunday, but it was still Friday. The infirmary was small and there wasn’t much to explore but he had found the knife protruding from the wall that Maneula had been using as a sort of makeshift coat hook. He practiced tossing it at the anatomical dummy with his good hand.

His aim was terrible with his left hand. He’d always neglected practicing with it, now he was paying for that. He was aiming for the chest of the dummy, _twack_, hit the arm. _Twack_, hit the wall, _twack_, hit the genitals. Hubert could live with that. _Twack_, the knife deeply embedded in the dummy’s head.

Jeralt finally poked his head in, “What the hell are you doing?”

Hubert shrugged, “Nothing.” His face was so itchy, “Hey what does a guy have to do to get access to a razor in here?”

Jeralt scratched his beard, “I don’t know, but you’re probably just going to cut your skin to shreds with that hand.”

Hubert sighed. He had never grown out any facial hair before, but after three days in here with no razor his face was unpleasantly prickly. Based on Edelgard’s reaction to it, it did not look good.

Jeralt dragged his chair into the infirmary and settled it at the base of Hubert’s bed. He turned it around and sat in it backwards, with his arms leaning on the back. “My kid says you’re annoying.”

Hubert sincerely hoped that Byleth had neglected to mention his multiple threats on her life. Jeralt continued, “But my kid can be a pain in the ass sometimes too. So what’s your deal?”

“I don’t have a deal,” said Hubert as he pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them. While white magic hadn’t been much good for his arm, Manuela had at least repaired Hubert’s fractured ribcage to a point where he could move and breathe without constant pain.

“Really, because other than that Brigid girl, I’m pretty sure you’re the only student in this place with a fucking tattoo,” said Jeralt.

Hubert shrugged again, that had become his go to response. “Regrets of my youth?”

“Yeah I guess you’re a little older than most of these brats,” mused Jeralt. He paused and his visage toughened, “The scars though, I’ve seen grown Mercs with less marks, what’s that about?”

“I’m the body guard of an imperial princess,” said Hubert. He supposed he _was_ her bodyguard, and now he wasn’t. Instead he was just a lanky useless mage in a too big sweater and flannel pants.

“For how long?”

“Fourteen and half years,” said Hubert. It was almost the entirety of someone like Petra or Lysithea’s life, that really put things in a new harsh perspective for him. He’d been shadowing Edegard for so long, he wondered if he even had an identity outside of his service to her.

“Damn,” whistled Jeralt. He was silent for a few beats, “What would you do if you weren’t doing this?”

Hubert did not have an answer to that. He gestured to his pile of edited papers, “Apparently I’m a good advice columnist.”

Jeralt snorted. “Well, here’s my advice, figure out who you are and don’t let someone tell you. You might find some day that the people you serve aren’t who you thought, and if you don’t know who you are, or,” he paused, “Or you don’t remember, it’s going to take you a long time to recognize bad from good.”

Hubert’s eyes flashed in the direction of Rhea’s audience chamber. He didn’t say anything but he knew that Jeralt had left here in a hurry two decades ago, and he didn’t seem particularly enthused to be back.

There was a knocking at the door, and Dorothea came in before Jeralt could turn her away. She practically sang as she greeted him, “Hubie! You’re alive!” She paused and stared, “Hmm, I did not expect you to have a beard.”

“That’s not a beard,” said Jeralt with a laugh as he got up to offer Dorothea the seat. Hubert self-consciously felt the light growth on his face.

“Oh thank you Captain, you are such a gentleman,” said Dorothea as she took it.

He surveyed her for a few moments, “I’m guessing you’re the busty loud one with a crush on my kid?”

Dorothea went red as she broke away from Jeralt’s stare and turned toward Hubert with wide, mortified eyes, “I have got to catch you up on what’s been happening in the Black Eagle House.” She paused and took a deep breath before counting off on her fingers the various offenses she’d observed during the week, “Flayn is now in our class, everyone is talking about how you saved Mercedes’ life from the zombie death knight, and there is a new bitch in town and her name is fucking Monica.”

“Monica, the girl from the Death Knight’s lair?” clarified Hubert. She had come by the last time Edelgard had been to visit him; she didn’t say much but watched him as if she were looking at some sort of vermin she wanted exterminated. Hubert was used to that sort of look from people, so he hadn’t thought too much about it at the time. He just figured Edelgard was doing her duty as house leader and introducing Monica to people.

“She’s in our house now, and she is glued to Edie,” complained Dorothea.

Hubert felt his spine stiffen; Edelgard had said her uncle had provided help for moving forward with the next phase of the coup. This Monica person sounded far closer to the princess than she had any right to be, especially if she was a ‘victim’ of the Death Knight. He needed to get out of this infirmary. He had not vetted this woman, but he had a strong suspicion she was a bona fide Slither.

“Why do you think she’s a,” Hubert paused at the crassness, “Why do you think she’s a bitch?”

Dorothea fumed, “You know how you make fun of people so they improve themselves? Well, Monica has just been making fun of everyone for no reason at all. She acts like she knows some big secret. The secret is, well that she’s a cunt —”

“Dorothea,” hissed Hubert, truly shocked by her language. “Seteth’s office is literally two doors down.”

Dorothea rolled her eyes, “Ugh I know, I’ve already accidentally cursed in front of Flayn like five times.”

Jeralt was cracking up and shaking his head as he left to take up his post out in the hall.

Dorothea leaned in, “So is it true that you rescued Mercie from the Death Knight?”

Hubert pulled up the over sized sweater sleeve and showed her the cast, “It’s true I got my ass handed to me by the people who took Jeritza’s body.”

“Hubie you don’t have an ass,” joked Dorothea.

“You don’t know that, why do you think I wear such big pants?” Hubert sneered at her as he shook his head. She was lifting his spirits but there was something nagging in the back of his mind, “How is Edelgard, and I mean really, how is she?”

Dorothea’s smile faded, “She seems stressed. Super grumpy. I didn’t think the Battle of the Eagle and the Lion mattered that much, but I think she really wants to win.”

Hubert nodded, although he knew it was the business between the slithers and the Flame Emperor that truly had Edelgard irate, not the inconsequential house competition. He needed to get back to her side as soon as he could. He needed to get back to himself, not this scrappy injured version of Hubert.

“Hey, do you think you could sneak me my folding razor from my room?” asked Hubert.

“Why, who are you planning to kill?” Dorothea shot him a teasing smile.

“This beard,” said Hubert.

“Don’t,” ordered Dorothea. “It makes you look rebellious.” She winked at him, “Oh and don’t get mad, but we sort of encouraged Bernadetta to make you a sling, and it’s uh, well it’s special so you have to wear it.”

***

Having learned from the last stake out, Felix had brought his own sword this time and patted down Lysithea to make sure she wasn’t hiding any knives he didn’t know about. “We do not engage, we only watch,” he insisted as they took breakfast together. They ate most meals together, and he was finally growing used to her.

“Well I already smelled her,” said Lysithea. Of course she had.

“And? Any sulfur?” Apparently that was a sure sign of dark magic.

“No, just too much perfume,” said Lysithea seeming grossed out. “It was kind of like she was trying to cover something up though, something rotten. There’s just a hint of,” Lysithea paused, “Well it was like decay. Kind of too sweet and nauseating, you know what I mean?”

Felix decided he did not need to smell Monica ever based on that description. “Maybe she just needs a shower.”

“Maybe we should push her in the pond,” laughed Lysithea.

“Nah, what if she poisons the fish?” joked Felix. Their laughter quieted down as they watched Monica following Edelgard out of the hall. They nodded to each other and quietly followed.

Monica did not leave Edelgard’s side. Instead they went to the training grounds to practice with each other. Felix knew Edelgard trained all the time so this wasn’t too unusual. He convinced Lysithea to go do something else while he focused on his sword work, that would look less weird than the two of them pretending to train together. Lysithea consented saying she had some experiments to conduct; he didn’t want to know what that meant.

Felix practiced with his sword while he watched Monica. She had a dagger that she was quick and sneaky with. Edelgard even seemed taken off guard by the new girl’s rapid pacing and exceptional skill.

“Well Monica you are certainly proving yourself talented with that knife,” said Edelgard with just a slight hint of unease.

Monica giggled, “Oh you know me.” She was spinning the dagger dangerously with her fingers, “I just like to keep people on their feet.” With that she threw the dagger at Felix. He didn’t even have time to get out of the way as it embedded itself into the wall mere inches from his head. “Whoops, how clumsy of me!” She skipped over to retrieve it and pulled it free from the wall with ease. She paused by Felix and smiled, whispering just for him, “It’s rude to spy on people. It’d be a real shame if I accidentally threw my knife again.”

Felix hoofed it out of there, he didn’t need to watch any more to know this girl was bad news.


	5. In the Shadow of the Goddess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why exactly was Mercedes in the morgue?

Emile. Emile was dead. Mercedes sat on the cold marble floor of the chamber of the saints before the statue of Indech, the warrior, convincing herself of this fact.

People were still trying their best to comfort her. Annette was at her beck and call, but Mercedes needed space and she didn’t know how to ask for it. The monks at the cathedral were more willing to give her wide breadth. They did not disturb her as she prayed. They did not comfort her as she cried.

In the rest of Garreg Mach, students were always coming up to her asking her questions. The story of Jeritza’s unnatural resurrection had spread like wildfire. All at once people would force her to relive it, and then as an afterthought, ask if she was okay.

Mercedes was not okay. She had known since first seeing Jeritza, even in his mask, that he was Emile. She had tried once to approach him, but he’d deftly avoided her. She understood; she and her mother had abandoned him to the mercy of the Bartels. Given what he had become, the Death Knight, she imagined his life stuck in that awful place must have been a constant hell. She would not forgive herself either if she was in his position.

Mercedes folded her arms to rest on the base of the statue and leaned her head forward to cry. Their mother had been forced to abandon poor Emile in life, a decision that still haunted and tortured the woman, and so Mercedes became determined not to abandon him in death. She had been going to the morgue to hold a vigil for her brother because no one else would mourn him.

She didn’t expect to see Felix keeping watch outside the morgue. She had been confused at first, and tried to go past him, but he wouldn’t let her through. Then the two men, those two horrible gray and twisted looking men, had entered the darkened hall. Felix had pulled her into a storage closet. They had watched the men pass in silent horror into the morgue where Mercedes recognized the sound of magical attacks being exchanged. Then was talking and the purple glow of dark magic, followed by the sight of the men leaving with her brother shambling behind them.

Jeritza, without his mask and armor, followed them wordlessly. He was straight in posture and staring ahead and walked as normally as someone who was alive. He wore no clothes, so there was nothing to hide the grizzled wound that had killed him. He hung open, bloodless, and unfazed by the mortal wound.

From there, things had been a blur. Felix had pulled her into the empty morgue where she saw Hubert sprawled on the floor, covered in his own blood and managing to keep himself together. Then Lysithea had burst from her hiding place, barking orders, and making demands. Lysithea had warped them. Not the comforting warm embrace of a white magic warp, but the bitter cold slap of a dark magic warp. Then Lysithea had skittered off, leaving the three of them to be discovered by those in charge.

Mercedes lifted her head and looked up at the statues of the saints, “What were they doing to him in there?” She wasn’t even sure herself who the ‘they’ were. All of them she supposed, why had all these people come to disturb Emile’s final rest?

She had a knack for reading people; it had always been a talent of hers that she had carefully honed in her years living in the church. She understood why people were hurting so that she could comfort them. She wondered at times if it was related to her crest, because sometimes the emotions of others were just too strong for her to ignore.

Despite this talent, she did not have a good sense of Lysithea or Hubert. There was a darkness that hung over them, and she had seen the same hanging over Jeritza, and even Edelgard. This was not the like the troubles she saw plaguing Dimitri. Those where ghosts in his head haunting his heart. This was something different, this was something dangerous.

When Mercedes read Lysithea she saw a girl running from the specter of time. It was like there was never enough for her. Despite all her accomplishments she was chasing bigger things that she feared would slip through her tiny fingers. This was a girl from a loving family that she was desperate to protect, but from what Mercedes could not tell.

Edelgard was cold and distant. Mercedes sensed her massive ambitions keenly. She was obsessed with justice, but there was a darkness of revenge clinging to her aura. Mercedes did not try to get close to Edelgard at all. She was afraid of the future Emperor for reasons she couldn’t quite pin down.

Then there was Hubert. What to make of him? Mercedes had been excited at first to learn that there was another older student getting a late start at Garreg Mach, but she quickly discovered Hubert was not going to be her friend. He was like the knives he hid all over his person; sharp, deadly, cold. She had only looked into his green eyes once, and she had seen murder inside them. He was rumored to be dangerous, and she was sure he had killed multiple people off the battlefield and away from the light. Yet he was also a shield, and he was stretching his metal thin trying to cover every last Black Eagle.

Mercedes held her face. She had sensed no malice in Hubert and Lysithea at the morgue, just an inappropriate curiosity. She didn’t think they had anything to do with Jeritza’s resurrection, but she did not think their intentions were at all pure.

She regretted not healing Hubert that night. She had been coming out of her shock as she watched him losing blood. She could have healed him, or at least tried to ease his intense pain, but there was some darkness in her as well. She wanted to watch him suffer for having dared to disturb her dead brother and treating him like a specimen to study. Mercedes shook as she sobbed some more, that had been one of the most terrible things she had ever consciously done to someone.

In Seteth’s office she had felt Hubert’s pain and his fear washing over her in great big waves that crashed like cymbals as he was carried to the infirmary. As he resisted treatment she was hit with a very mortal fear. He wasn’t afraid of dying from his wounds, but he was very afraid of a looming execution. When they knocked him out the fear had melted away leaving her finally to her own thoughts. Then she saw his body, covered in the same kinds of scars that decorated Emile. The two had been tortured by the same people, and she had left them both to suffer.

***

Seteth was conducting his Saturday rounds. The weekends were always popular for worship but it was getting late and most people were on their way home to family and friends for dinner. Seteth just wanted to make sure the chapel was in order before retiring back to his office. He blew out candles and cleaned up wax dribbles, straightened hymnals out, and made sure to check that the advice box was not getting too full. He pulled his cloak a little tighter, it was fall and the air was much cooler.

Seteth was closing up the doors the courtyard when a quiet sob caught his ears. He followed it cautiously and spied Mercedes alone in the chamber of the saints. Seteth sighed, he hated seeing students so upset, and walked over to her. She was kneeling at the statue of Indech whispering her prayers.

“I do not wish to interrupt you, but may I join you?” Seteth paused, he would leave if she refused.

Merecedes looked up at him and wiped her eyes, “Seteth? I’m, I’m sorry am I not supposed to be here right now?”

Seteth took a seat next to her on the floor, “Whenever you need to come here, you are always welcome.”

Mercedes cleared her eyes again. She had been crying a lot these past few days.

“It’s alright Mercedes, we don’t have to talk,” whispered Seteth as he gently touched her shoulder.

Mercedes collected herself, “I thought I understood what happened when we die. I didn’t realize that sometimes, death isn’t death.”

Seteth knew Jeritza’s body was gone and that this went far beyond some gentle student pranking, but to actually believe that a corpse was up an walking? That was truly faith shaking. Yet, Mercedes was, to his knowledge, one of the kindest and most honest students enrolled at the school. He had no reason not to believe what she believed she had seen.

She sighed, “Is there a limit to the Goddess’ forgiveness?”

That caught Seteth off guard, “No, she will always forgive those who ask for it in good faith.”

Mercedes wrapped her arms around herself, “Once, I was forced to abandon someone who then suffered greatly because of it.”

“Your brother,” supplied Seteth.

Mercedes nodded, “After that I pledged to help everyone who needed it, but, I abandoned someone again, by choice this time, and they’re still suffering because of me.”

Seteth didn’t quite know how to respond to her, but he sensed she wanted to share more. “Mercedes, may offer you some cocoa? I think we should have a chat about what happened somewhere more comfortable,” said Seteth as he helped her up from the cold marble floor.

Seteth built up a fire in his office and brewed up the hot chocolate. He’d put a little table over the spot where von Vestra’s blood stain was stubbornly clinging to the carpet fibers and offered Mercedes a cushy arm chair.

“Do you think you can tell me about what you saw?”

Mercedes nodded. Seteth was relieved, “May I ask Hubert to join us?” Mercedes paused and then nodded again.

He told her he’d be right back.

“von Vestra, come have cocoa with me,” ordered Seteth as he looked into the infirmary. Seteth had thought that normal Hubert in his uniform and scraggly hair that fell in his face was bad enough, but 5 days post-shave and mismatched pajamas Hubert was somehow even more of a nuisance to behold.

Hubert looked up at him like he was out of his mind, and then turned back to the book he was reading, “I don’t drink cocoa.”

“It wasn’t a request,” said Seteth sharply as he returned to his office. He could hear the delinquent groaning as he shuffled out of bed to skulk after Seteth. Seteth watched as Hubert froze up in discomfort in front of Mercedes.

Seteth took his desk chair and knitted his fingers together, “Now, there are many rumors of what went on this past Monday, but the only people who saw anything are the two of you and Fraldarius, and I don’t quite believe his version of events. I’d like you each to explain to me what took you to the morgue that night.”

He turned his gaze toward Hubert but it was Mercedes who spoke first. “I wanted to keep my brother company through the night,” she whispered softly. Her breath was fluttering as if she were suppressing tears, “He wouldn’t talk to me when he was alive, but I understand why.” She sighed and stared at the mug in her hands, “I left him alone in life, I didn’t want to leave him alone in death.”

Seteth felt his heart breaking for her.

Hubert had become very pale and quiet as he climbed into the other armchair. “I was trying to understand how Jeritza was able to fight they way he did as the Death Knight.” His voice sounded especially apathetic.

“So you thought you’d sneak in and do a little autopsy?” demanded Seteth. He regretted his words immediately, his anger with Hubert was blinding him to his sympathy towards Mercedes. He’d have to be more careful with his words.

“I just wanted to look, nothing more,” said Hubert as if that were a normal thing to do. Hubert sniffed the cocoa he was offered but did not try it. Seteth could not help but stare at Hubert’s left hand — chewed down finger nails, ink stains, thick callouses, and scars — as he clutched the warm mug. “I would not have been there had I known the morgue would be so, _busy_.”

Seteth controlled himself before he rolled his eyes. von Vestra was like a splinter that Seteth longed to extract. Yet if what the student had said a few days ago was true, Seteth would be remiss in expelling Hubert and turning him back over to his questionable family. He’d have to keep him here, no matter how distasteful he found the young man.

“And how precisely did it happen, did Jeritza just, rise up or —” began Seteth trying to refocus on the problem at hand.

“There were two,” Mercedes paused. “I suppose they were men, but they didn’t quite look it any more.” That was a chilling description.

“I attacked first, I don’t think I did any damage to them,” said Hubert. His voice was wooden and Seteth sensed that he was beginning to lock down. The window for getting information was closing.

“Did they discuss anything?”

“I couldn’t hear from where I was,” Mercedes whispered.

Hubert looked at Seteth in annoyance, “I was hit with enough force to snap my arm in half and blow me off my feet, I wasn’t really present for the moments that followed.”

“And what spell did they use on you?”

Hubert was silent. Surely he knew the spell, he was one of the academy’s most accomplished reason users. “I don’t know what spell it was; it was dark magic.” Of course he would not admit to knowing what it was. Seteth thought that maybe Mercedes’ presence would force some honesty out of Hubert, but clearly the miscreant was immune to her.

Dark magic was banned at the monastery but he had heard reports that Hubert and Lysithea were both freely using it on the battlefield. The two had gotten too close for Seteth’s comfort in the past month, and he assumed they were practicing the forbidden arts together. He also noticed Felix hanging around them, like a little unholy trio of trouble. Seteth wasn’t a betting man, but he was confident Lysithea had not been far from the action of the morgue.

Seteth drank his own mug of cocoa and studied his two oldest students. They were very much dynamic opposites in his eyes. A white mage of unwavering faith and generosity, and a dark mage that all but openly rejected the goddess and the teachings of Seiros. Their paths had no reason to cross as allies, and yet they had. Seteth relented and dismissed them; he would continue to work on this mystery.

***

“Hubert, wait,” whispered Mercedes after him. She followed him into the darkened infirmary.

“What do you want?” he asked. There was frustration in his voice and she knew she should not keep following him, yet her guilt pressed her forward. “If it’s an apology for poking around your dead brother, well, I’m not sorry —”

“Stop, please,” she whispered. “Emile died a long time ago I think; I don’t really know who Jeritza was in the end, at least you were trying to figure that out.” She swallowed uncomfortably as she thought about the real reason she was chasing after him, “I,” she struggled to find the appropriate words, “I’m sorry I didn’t heal you before you had to come here.”

He didn’t speak, just studied her face in the poor lighting. He was in the shadows, making it difficult for her to do the same of him.

“I really regret it,” she added. “I’ve been praying for forgiveness —”

“I don’t believe in the goddess or her forgiveness,” whispered Hubert harshly.

Mercedes took a step back, “Why?”

“Because if she was real, she wouldn’t let people like me, people like Jeritza, be made into what we are,” said Hubert with disgust. He returned to sit on his bed in the dark like some sort of gargoyle. “Your books of Seiros says the goddess cares for and protects that which is beautiful.” Hubert paused biting his lip and letting his head hang back, “Yet how can you recognize beauty without that which is ugly, how will you recognize light without darkness? Perhaps the goddess needs me and Jeritza to occupy the shadows to provide sharp contrast to your goodness.” His words dripped with acid and pain.

Mercedes covered her mouth, holding back more tears at his words. She sat on the nearest empty bed and could not help herself but cry. Hubert had laid down in his bed, facing away from her.

Was it true that there were those who had fallen too far down for the goddess to try and reach? She knew Emile was believed responsible for the terrible things that had befallen the Bartels. Had the goddess truly cast him aside as punishment for his misdeeds?

“What was done to you, what was done to Emile?” she whispered. She needed to know.

She could hear Hubert growling as he rolled over to face her, “You really want to know?” He seemed furious, hissing more so than speaking. “They cut _us_ open,” he ran his hand along the base of his abdomen, “And they jammed a dark seal in between the layers of muscle.” He lifted his sweater and pointed to the great big scar, “They sewed us up, etched the magic circle into our skin, and let us grow dependent on it so that it can’t be removed without destroying us, and oh right how could I forget, apparently if it’s broken, we’re poisoned until we die so that’s something lovely to look forward to.”

Mercedes could not help herself as she reached forward to touch the scar. She could feel the dark seal just behind the skin. This was the source of darkness Mercedes sensed; it meant the others, Lysithea, even Edelgard, must have dark seals in them too. She expected Hubert to be cold, and yet he was warm; just a man made of flesh and bone. She looked up at him and met his eyes; he wasn’t angry, but he seemed terrified of her touch.

“Mercedes,” began Hubert slowly. “There are people you can’t repair, so stop apologizing, and please, get your hands off of me.”

Mercedes quickly withdrew her hands and realized that her burning curiosity was the same kind that had driven Hubert into the morgue that night. She suddenly felt swept up in a sea of shame as she looked at him. Mercedes controlled her breathing to stop herself from crying any more as she got up and left the infirmary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, remember when this was supposed to be a lighthearted romp about killing off Kronya?! Quick back to the regularly scheduled programming!
> 
> Seteth is not down for 90's grunge Hubert. 
> 
> Mercedes' acute sense of emotion is based on her B support with Byleth, and also listening to too much R.E.M. while writing. 
> 
> \---  
Sorry if this came off clumsy at all; I've realized that what I'm doing at work greatly affects what I write about. I've had to look at a lot of arm fractures this week, hence broken arm Hubert, and attended several seminars about cultural differences surrounding death and dying, hence mourning Mercedes -- I also do not have beta readers so sometimes it's difficult to tell if things are veering too far in a poor direction.


	6. Back to Class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ferdinand takes his book carrying duties very seriously; Hubert and Monica get a proper introduction

There were more people than chairs in the homeroom now that four extra students had joined the class. This simply would not do. Hubert insisted he would just sit on the floor in the back. Ferdinand would not allow this. “You cannot sit on the floor! How will you see the board?”

“It’s fine,” said Hubert. Ferdinand knew that tone, the all to familiar “_Please drop it Ferdinand_” voice.

“I was assigned to help you, I cannot let you sit on the floor,” said Ferdinand. Who knew the last time anyone had swept? He would look like he wasn’t taking his duty seriously if he let Hubert wallow back there at the mercy of all the dust bunnies.

Ferdinand marched over to the Blue Lions homeroom. He explained the situation to Dimitri who gladly parted with a spare chair. Ferdinand made sure to wish Mercedes well, telling her how much he missed her at choir practice. That seemed to make her smile, and she promised she’d be back soon. Wonderful.

Ferdinand placed the chair at the table with Flayn, making sure to put himself between Hubert and Flayn, just in case Hubert said something awful in the direction of the sweet new student. Hubert thanked him stiffly. It was very much the “_Really, I wish you hadn’t_” kind of thank you that Ferdinand had learned to tolerate from Hubert.

Ferdinand sighed, Hubert was not being himself; usually there would be a scathing remark or a little insult added in, but no, today Hubert was unusually subdued. He reminded Ferdinand of a flower that was wilting for want of sunlight, and Ferdinand von Aegir would be damned if he didn’t figure out what that light was.

The simple answer was Edelgard; Ferdinand did not miss the way Hubert’s eyes seemed to look everywhere in the room but at her. Rumor was that Edelgard had asked Hubert to take a leave of absence from his duties while his arm healed. Ferdinand wondered it this was not a hidden opportunity, perhaps he could teach Hubert how to relax for once. Byleth had clearly chosen Ferdinand for a reason, and he suspected it was his excellent understanding of work life balance.

“Hubert,” said Flayn excitedly as she leaned forward to see around Ferdinand, “Hubert I have finished my forecast.” She passed him the paper.

Flayn got to help with the student paper and Ferdinand did not? The outrage! Hubert kept refusing Ferdinand’s opinion pieces, always rejecting them on technicalities. Yet he was soliciting material from Flayn?

Ferdinand decided it could never hurt to keep asking, “Hubert, would you consider publishing my piece on exploring Fodlan through tea blends?”

“Okay,” said Hubert as he set down Flayn’s fish forecast on the table.

Ferdinand paused, it was time to really test the limits, “Will you join me for tea after class?”

“Sure,” whispered Hubert as he stared at Byleth who was beginning the lesson.

_Oh no, something is very wrong with Hubert_, thought Ferdinand. He was also now obligated to take Hubert for tea, something he’d never thought the tea-hating mage would agree to. He’d have to select a very bitter blend. Then there was the issue of the other refreshments, what did Hubert even enjoy, if anything? He knew Hubert liked spicy foods, but Ferdinand was beside himself in trying to think up a spicy confection to pair with the tea he had in mind. Perhaps some sort of spice cookie, with minimal sweetness to it, like a ginger snap? That might work. Ferdinand realized he was so busy thinking about creating the perfect first tea time that he had failed to take any notes and quickly scribbled down the last thing Byleth had said, “_Aim for the head_”. Oh dear, without context that was not very helpful at all. He was after all supposed to be sharing his notes with Hubert, who could not possibly keep up with his left hand.

Ferdinand tried to spy on Hubert from the corner of his eyes during class and saw the mage wasn’t paying attention to lecture at all — these notes were going to be critical — and was just hanging his head. His gloved fingers traced over the delicately embroidered flowers on the sling Bernadetta had made for him. If there was one thing that Ferdinand actually admired about Hubert, it was his willingness to do things to make others happy even at the cost of being socially humiliated. Ferdinand was not sure he could bring himself to wear such an overtly feminine (and not to mention clashing with his color palette) accessory without being worried about being mocked. Hubert seemed only to be made stronger by insults sent his way.

At lunch things were no better. Ferdinand suggested that they try to sit with Edelgard, but by the time they were finished filling their trays that table was filled with all the girls. They sat with Caspar and Linhardt. Ferdinand carried the conversation, as usual. Caspar said something especially outrageous and Ferdinand waited excitedly for Hubert’s typical insulting response, but none came. Even Linhardt was picking up on the fact that something was wrong.

“Hubert, are you dying?” asked Linhardt.

Ferdinand smacked his own face, you could not just ask someone if they were on death’s doorstep.

“Only at the normal rate I assure you,” said Hubert dryly. That seemed more like Hubert, which helped brighten Ferdinand’s determination to return his nemesis to his normal, acidic self.

***

They were training again with the Blue Lions. For the first time since coming to Garreg Mach, Hubert changed in the locker room, and not in a stall in the bathroom. He was still keeping a healthy distance from the others but he was done with hiding. He’d heard some pretty crazy rumors via Dorothea about himself that had sprung up in the last week, like he had a full back tattoo of the two headed Adrestian Eagle, that he had a scar from a shark attack, and the weirdest one, that he didn’t have a belly button. He suspected Dorothea might have started that last one herself just to mess with him. Hubert figured at this point he had nothing left to hide, and he would change in front of them in the hopes of shutting people up.

Their training clothes were pretty high up on Hubert’s list of things he hated about Garreg Mach. They were far more form fitting than he was comfortable with, and he was presently caught in the red and black shirt, flailing slightly as he tried to maneuver with his arm cast. He should have just gone to the bathroom like usual, this was embarrassing. Someone’s hand reached behind him, and pulled the shirt down, allowing Hubert to see again.

He shrank in surprise at the sight of Dedue hulking over him. The prince’s retainer stared down at Hubert, “You protected Mercedes, thank you.”

“Uh,” managed Hubert as he straightened back up. ‘Protected’ was generous given that he hadn’t even known she was there when he was casting. He could have just as easily caught her in his crossfire. By the time Hubert registered that he ought to just say ‘you’re welcome’, Dedue had already walked away, having said his peace.

Hubert was told he could just sit on the bleachers today, but Mercedes was there, and he had other ideas. He went down to the end of the archery range and grabbed a series of throwing knives. This way, he was alone, and doing something of use.

He kept missing though and eventually Byleth came over, “Man you really suck with your left hand.”

“Thank you professor,” said Hubert as he tried again — _twack_ — not even close.

“I want you learning shielding magic,” said Byleth.

Hubert winced, white magic was not his strong suit, “Any particular reason?”

Byleth pointed towards Flayn, “You’re going to cover Flayn on the battlefield while she learns to fight.”

Hubert regarded Byleth while hoping she understood how lucky she was that his aim was so bad right now.

“Wouldn’t Linhardt be a better choice for that?”

Byleth shook her head, “Nah, he makes her uncomfortable, asks her too many personal questions. Plus I need him healing people.” She glanced out at the targets, unimpressed, “Anyway, it’s not like you’re going to get your knife game up in time for the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, so make yourself useful Vestra.”

Hubert composed himself. Linhardt made someone more uncomfortable than Hubert, what was this world coming to?

“Learn ward, try to learn silence, that’s your assignment, I’m testing you in two weeks,” said Byleth as she clapped him on the back and returned to her rounds. Hubert threw his last knife, completely missing, and sighed.

As he went to collect the set of knives — scattered everywhere it seemed but the target — Hubert felt the stomach dropping swiftness of a knife passing by his ear and hitting the center of the nearest target. He looked up in disbelief and Monica winked and blew him a kiss. Angrily Hubert pulled the knife free and found that it was not a dull training knife, but a personal one with a long curved dark blade. There were symbols on the handle, much like the Slither symbol tattooed on his chest. Hubert felt his lip curl in grim satisfaction. Monica was sloppy at hiding what she was.

He took a deep breath and decided to properly introduce himself. He walked over and presented her with the handle of her dagger. “We haven’t had a chance to really speak, I’m Hubert von Vestra.”

“Hubie, right?” Monica lightly bounced her finger on the tip of the blade.

“I prefer Hubert,” he said coolly.

She smiled and extended her hand. It was like ice, “I’m Monica von Ochs.”

Hubert flared his nostrils, “Ochs, pronounced “_ah-ks_” not “_ay-chs_”. You wouldn’t want people to get suspicious that you don’t even know your own name.”

Monica’s smile faltered just ever so slightly as she withdrew her hand, “Well thank you for looking out for a fellow supporter of the Empire _Hubie_.” She slid the dagger into it’s little scabbard that sat on her lower back. “Maybe you’re not the total pain in the ass Thales suggested you were.”

“I’m here to serve,” said Hubert carefully as he looked towards Edelgard. He returned his gaze to Monica, “How are you adjusting to your new position?”

Monica waved him off with a yawn, “It’s a breeze. I wasn’t expecting the whole maid aspect though, I think it’s high time the princess start doing her own laundry, don’t you agree? I have more important matters I’m attending to.”

Hubert nodded along attempting to keep his face as pleasant as possible, “Well, if you ever need assistance with the domestic end of things, I have plenty of experience with that.”

Monica never stopped smiling but her eyes lost their sense of amusement. She _tsk’d_ softly, “Oh Hubie, I was warned you were like a termite.”

A termite? That was a new one. He’d been annoyed when Dorothea declared he was a hedgehog — prickly spikes around a soft, vulnerable underbelly — but Dorothea loved little animals, so he hadn’t taken it as an insult. No one liked termites.

Monica licked her lips as she surveyed him, “Termites are like cockroaches, but smaller and dedicated to a queen. A nuisance, a pest, always trying to get into places they’re not wanted.” Monica shook her head, “Edelgard doesn’t need you around, you broken down butler. Keep that big nose of yours out of things, or I’ll be forced to pick some Black Eagles out for target practice.”

“Excuse me?” whispered Hubert.

Monica giggled as she looked around the training grounds, “Yes, I think there many fun people in this class.” She pulled teasingly at Hubert’s sling, “I think I’ll start with your anxious little archer. Do you suppose she runs fast?”

Hubert jerked his arm back away from her. For a moment he considered the blades in his left hand and how easy it would be to send them into her neck. If he killed her right here, right now, he’d either be executed by the Church or the Slithers. If he tried and failed to kill her, well, that might start a massacre at the training grounds. Neither option was particularly appealing.

Instead, though it made him sick to do so, Hubert chuckled softly, “No, she’s not very fast.”

“Pity, I do like a good hunt,” said Monica wistfully.

“As do I,” agreed Hubert as he watched her. Monica von Ochs had just taken the highest priority slot on his lengthy list of people to kill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Monica, you fool, threaten Bernie? Now she's under Hubie's skin.  
\----
> 
> Spotify playlist for writing soft gothy/post punk Hubert: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5VZSxhK5mS7vVs8jZyTvdp


	7. The Battle of the Eagle and the Lion (and the deer are here too!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The students prepare for the biggest mock battle showcase of the year, fought with Fodlan's equivalent of nerf weapons.

The four of them had snuck out to the woods around the monastery to drill Hubert’s Ward technique, and to discuss what they’d seen that week. Monica was proving difficult to follow; they suspected she was the “Kronya” that Thales had mentioned in the morgue, but they had no proof. She seemed to go towards the sealed forest often, but she kept losing them every time they tried to follow. Essentially, they had nothing on her other than she was very unpleasant to be around.

Lysithea tossed another low powered fireball at Hubert who barely blocked it. “I don’t think you’re passing this exam.”

“I still have a few days,” grumbled Hubert as he put a finger through the hole she’d just burned in his sleeve.

“I think you need a few years,” said Lysithea. He was downright awful at white magic. He knew heal, the most basic white magic spell there was, and apparently it had taken him all summer to get it right. There was just no way he was going to have Ward fully realized for the Battle of the Eagle and the Lion. Lysithea hoped Flayn was good at running away because Hubert wasn’t shielding anyone like this.

“Think fast Hubie,” called out Dorothea as she sent Thunder his way. Hubert cursed as he got out of the way, the green light of his magic circle just barely flickering.

Lysithea looked down at the small smoldering divot in the ground where Hubert had just been standing and shook her head at Dorothea. “Maybe we should just throw rocks at him, this is getting dangerous.”

Felix’s ears perked up, “I can go find some rocks —”

“No rocks,” said Hubert quickly. They gathered to take a break. Lysithea had gotten Felix to outright enjoy the cakes she brought, but she was still working on Hubert.

“Is there a dark magic version of ward?” Asked Dorothea as she stretched out to look at the clouds.

Hubert and Lysithea exchanged glances. Lysithea frowned, “What do you mean?”

“Well, most dark magic seems like, and don’t take this the wrong way, like a perversion of white magic,” explained Dorothea. “Like white magic warp, you send someone to safety, but dark magic warp, you appear behind them and — _yeech_,” she drew a finger across her neck. “Something like that.”

“Dark magic is definitely more about pain,” began Hubert. “Black magic though,” he paused while thinking it over. “You could probably cast a wind spell with enough force to knock someone over,” suggested Hubert. “Or deflect an arrow, but I’m not sure that I generate enough power with just one hand to do that.”

“What if you had a staff?” asked Lysithea carefully.

“It’s black magic,” started Hubert. Staffs could amplify magic, but they were mostly for healing.

Lysithea was excited to show off what she’d been working on over the last month. She stood, “I’ll be right back.” Lysithea warped to fetch her greatest invention yet, and warped back to the group, staff in hand. “I call it the dark staff.”

Hubert stared at the dark seal prominently embedded in the staff, “You were supposed to destroy that.”

Lysithea shrugged, “Well I decided to poke around with it a little.” She presented him the staff. She’d only tried it for little things, but it seemed awesome. “I took out the white crystal in the magic staff you found while we were grave robbing —”

“You were grave robbing?” demanded Dorothea. She seemed less horrified and more entertained by the extent of their depravity.

“Lightly looting,” clarified Hubert as he studied Lysithea’s work.

“And I replaced it with the dark seal,” finished Lysithea.

“Is it stable?” Hubert seemed a little dubious.

Lysithea nodded, “Well, it hasn’t blow up yet. Which is probably good because I’ve been storing it under Felix’s bed —’

“You what?” demanded Felix. Lysithea had a suspicion he never cleaned, and she was right. Felix looked in horror at the staff, “This is why I’ve been having such terrible nightmares!”

“Yeah, try having one of these under your skin instead of just under your bed,” said Hubert as he got up. He aimed at a tree while holding the staff in his left hand and let loose a spell. The tree cracked in half from the force of the spell. “Holy shit.”

Lysithea crossed her arms and smirked in satisfaction at getting Hubert to curse while sober, “Still mad I didn’t destroy it?”

Hubert was nodding enthusiastically at the staff, “Great work Banshee.”

“If you can sneak that into Gronder, I think you’ll do just fine protecting Flayn,” said Lysithea knowingly.

“Isn’t this cheating?” said Dorothea with amusement as she looked between the two mages.

“Only if you get caught,” Hubert and Lysithea said in unison.

“You should make more of these,” whispered Hubert as he continued to admire her invention.

“I know, isn’t it fucking awesome?” Lysithea half wished the Death Knight would show up again just so they could harvest another dark seal.

***

A mock battle meant mock weapons. Felix felt the rubber tipped training sword he was expected to use. He swung it around and reckoned it could break bones. He sighed as Edelgard was marching around giving them a pre-battle pep talk. The officer’s academy students and the greater class of the Black Eagle house were ready in their red uniforms. Edelgard wanted to storm the central ballista and then take out the Golden Deers and then the Blue Lions. Felix mostly just wanted to take out the Blue Lions.

Rhea was saying some words, voice magically projected and amplified. The house leaders were rallying their students. Goddess, everyone was taking this so seriously. Felix trained his view on Dimitri’s golden head in the distance. That was his target, beating the prince would be it’s own sweet form of victory. He’d have to get past Dedue and Ingrid, flanking Dimitri on either side, and Felix saw the wisdom in moving with the greater force.

The best laid plans though crumbled as the Blue Lions concurrently rushed the ballista. Edelgard was barking new orders while leading a charge and Felix found himself in a group sweeping around behind the main Blue Lion force.

Felix took Sylvain off guard as he dealt a very hard blow with the harmless sword. “No, I’m too young to fall,” cried Sylvain as he pretended to gush blood onto Gronder field.

Felix sighed and kicked him lightly, “Quit messing around.”

“If you insist,” said Sylvain as he closed his eyes and pantomimed an especially violent death.

Felix rolled his eyes and realized just in time that Ingrid was going to fake-skewer him with her lance. “No hard feelings Felix,” she said as she aimed to hit him again. “But you’re in the worst house now —” she barely got the words out before Felix had crashed into her knocking her over and put his sword up to her neck. “Ugh I yield,” grumbled Ingrid. “You didn’t have to tackle me.”

“I’m here for the boar prince,” said Felix unamused as he looked around. Dedue was being beset by a fairly large crowd, and Dimitri was open. Felix sprinted forward to take on the Blue Lions house leader. Felix was caught with a swing of the prince’s lance, and felt the wind knocked from him. Growling, Felix got back up to his feet.

“Felix, I don’t want to hurt you,” warned Dimitri. His lance was poised ready to strike again, “But you have to actually yield.”

“No way,” yelled Felix as he tried Dimtri again. The prince resolutely whacked him, sending him to the ground. Fake weapons could leave very real bruises and Felix had bit his own cheek in surprise hard enough to draw blood.

Felix was ready to get up a third time even though his arms and legs were pleading with him not to. He heard a familiar voice yell, “Hey asshole, pick on someone your own strength.” Lysithea sent a rather large burst of wind at Dimitri’s head, knocking the prince over. Felix sprang up to pounce with his rubber tipped sword.

“I yield,” said Dimitri throwing his hands up.

Felix got up and spit blood down on the grass by Dimitri’s head. Lysithia high fived him and then grimaced at his face, “Gross! You need to go find Linhardt.”

***

Hubert and Flayn were as far back as they could be without leaving Gronder field. Hubert stood with binoculars watching as Edelgard was determined to lead a charge onto the ballista, dragging Bernadetta behind her. Hubert grimaced as he watched Bernadetta ducking and weaving from swinging lances and swords, her facial expressions looking increasingly terrified.

“Why are you doing this to her Edelgard?” muttered Hubert as he watched the princess whack a cavalier out of the way. Bernadetta sprang up and Edelgard yelled at her to take position. Then Bernadetta began to release a volley of rubber tipped arrows at their classmates. Hubert burst out laughing as he saw Hilda struck square in the head with one, taking the pink haired girl by complete surprise. She was holding her head and rubbing a spot where Hubert imagined a painful little bruise would be later. Bernadetta was an absolute maniac as she continued to scream, cry, and take down enemy classmates one by one.

“Hubert, you shouldn’t be laughing about people getting hurt,” said Flayn also watching through her own pair of binoculars.

Hubert looked down at her and sighed, she had no sense of humor. “Why don’t you send a little psychic Hilda’s way then?”

“But she’s not in our class,” said Flayn uncertainly. He could tell he’d gotten her though, she did want to heal everyone. “Isn’t that against the rules?”

“There are no rules in war,” said Hubert as he returned to watch Bernadetta’s furious assault. “Plus, you never know when you might need to collect a favor.”

“Won’t Edelgard be mad at me?” Her hands were itching to cast.

The princess looked like she needed a real challenge, and Hilda was perfect for that. “Well, I won’t tell her if you won’t.”

Flayn lifted her little staff and Hubert watched a quick healing circle flash over Hilda who perked up and squared her eyes on Edelgard. Hubert grinned gleefully as he watched; Edelgard was going to kick Hilda’s ass all over again. His view traced around the field as he ordered Flayn who to prioritize for healing. This went on for a while and he gave Flayn a break, she looked absolutely exhausted.

Hubert spied someone finally crossing a bridge to come get them, coming from the side where the Golden Deers were camped out. Someone had decided to come and clean them up. She was too far away to completely see, but Hubert had an inkling of who it was.

_Oh great Leonie, show us how tough you are coming after a little kid and the guy with the broken arm_, thought Hubert as he watched her riding towards them. He expected her to yell some boastful nonsense, but she only stopped and stared straight ahead. Her face was unsettlingly blank.

“Hubert, something seems very wrong with Leonie,” whispered Flayn fearfully as Leonie’s lance lowered into a charging position. It wasn’t a regulation rubber tipped training lance issued for the mock battle, it was a specially forged silver lance, and damn did it look sharp.

“Flayn,” started Hubert carefully as he placed himself in front of her, “When I tell you to, run to the closest thicket, and hide.”

“Yes Hubert,” whispered Flayn as Hubert loosened the dark staff from it’s hiding place in his sleeve. If Leonie wasn’t using an approved weapon he wasn’t going to either.

Leonie had crossed half the distance between them when Hubert ordered Flayn to dart away. He cast the a wind spell her way and Leonie’s horse stopped rapidly, and came up on its back legs, sending the rider flying back. Hubert sprinted forward and grabbed the reins quickly, trying to calm the horse before looking at Leonie laying supine in the grass. Her eyes were open, but she appeared to be in a trance.

Hubert knelt down and checked her pulse, she seemed fine but she also wasn’t registering that he was there as she got up. Her head snapped in Flayn’s direction. Hubert watched in horror as she started to walk towards the thicket with her lance in hand.

“Leonie, stop,” warned Hubert. This was supposed to be a minimal contact battle but she had shown up with a very serious weapon. “Second warning,” he said as she broke into a run towards Flayn. Hubert didn’t feel to bad as he cast a non-lethal but debilitating Thunder spell. He pulled one of the little red beacons to claim the "kill" for the black eagles out of his pocket to pin to her back, hopefully a healer would come find her soon. He returned his staff to it’s hiding place and gingerly stepped past her as he made his way to the thicket, still leading Leonie’s horse. He tied it to a branch so it couldn’t get in anyone’s way.

“Flayn, it’s me, where are you?” Hissed Hubert as he pulled back branches looking for the little green haired healer.

“Hubert! Help!” Hubert stood up and saw Flayn literally being carried off by a band of students wearing yellow. They weren’t going towards the battle, but rather trying to leave the field. They seemed to be making their way towards the woods. Hubert could just me out a figure in a cloak watching from the tree line.

“What the hell is going on here?” demanded Hubert out loud as he chased after them. “Stop!” They ignored him, but they weren’t going to ignore this: Hubert carefully directed a gale at them. The students were bowled over by the blast of wind giving Hubert enough time to dart in and pick up Flayn. He trained to be strong enough to carry Edelgard in full armor should the need ever arise, and Flayn was no problem at all to haul out of there. However, Gronder Field was muddy and he was slow with a mob of possessed students chasing after him.

Flayn was looking over his shoulder, crying a bit, “Hubert, they’re getting up, they’re starting to run.”

Hubert spun around and saw the students coming after them, their faces just as blank as Leonie’s. He looked at the tree line and the cloaked figure was coming forward, a chant crossing their lips. Hubert spied red hair, it had to be Monica.

Hubert really hoped Seteth would appreciate this and not get too mad as Hubert warped the hell out of there.

Hubert was greeted with Thunderbrand in his face. He had landed just a little too close to Rhea. He could barely see her as knights of Seiros formed around her protectively.

“Vestra?” That was Shamir.

“Flayn!” Seteth was panicked as Hubert released a sobbing Flayn to run to the comfort of her brother. Hubert held up his hands while catching his breath.

“You can get that out of my face,” said Hubert weakly towards Catherine, who did not comply. He knew he was probably an offensive sight the archbishop; a scruffy, sweating man with hair in his face and a ridiculous and brightly colored embroidered sling, who the audacity to perform dark magic in her presence.

“No don’t hurt him,” pleaded Flayn as she wiped her eyes. “He saved me!”

“Is that true?” demanded Catherine. She looked like she really wanted to stick the relic into him.

“There was a group of students very determined to carry her off the field,” said Hubert. He pointed in the direction they’d come from. “You’ll find them down there, at least one of them was unconscious when I left.”

“Let him up,” said Seteth as he looked down at the field directing some knights that way to investigate.

Shamir unceremoniously pulled Hubert up, “Nice sling.”

Hubert dusted himself off, he supposed he was disqualified from the battle for having left the field. “Seteth,” started Hubert. “Take her back to Garreg Mach. I don’t know what’s going on here, but it’s nothing good.”

Seteth nodded but there was plenty of suspicion in his eyes. “Where are you going?”

“The medic tent,” said Hubert with a small wave goodbye to Flayn. “I need to have a conversation with the girl who tried to run me through with a very sharp lance.” He didn’t know Leonie well, but he didn’t think she was the type to terrorize Flayn and break the rules of mock combat. Plus she was a notorious penny pincher; where had she even gotten such a weapon?

“Shamir, stay on him, make sure he doesn’t do anything funny,” said Catherine.

Shamir and Hubert walked down from the cliffs towards the medic tent where students leaving the battle field were treated for their bumps and bruises. “You used dark magic in front of Rhea, do you have a death wish?”

“I didn’t mean to land so close,” grumbled Hubert. When warping alone, accuracy was easy. However, if you were warping a group, aiming became highly difficult.

Leonie was awake, alert and visibly confused as a very pissed off Hubert sat down beside her, “What do you think you were doing?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she grumbled as she massaged her neck.

“Nice lance, where’s it from?” said Hubert as he gestured to the silver lance that had come back with her. She was going to get into a ton of trouble if any of the professors saw it.

“That’s not mine,” protested Leonie.

“Really, because you were holding it when you charge at me and Flayn.”

“I didn’t charge you,” said Leonie getting mad, but also distressed. She was clearly a little confused and frustrated by his questions and her lack of response.

Hubert sighed, “Did you black out?”

Leonie looked terribly embarrassed as she deflected the question. Hubert pressed again, “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Um, breakfast,” admitted Leonie. “I was sitting next to someone from your class, that redhead.” Her voice trailed off. 

Hubert licked his lips, and then removed the top of the lance. He stole a pillowcase from an empty bed and tossed the weapon inside. He pressed the bundle into Leonie’s arms, “I don’t know where that came from, but you ought to sell it.”

“It’s not mine though,” started Leonie.

“I think whoever gave it to you was casting a spell on you, controlling you,” said Hubert in a matter of fact way. “Sell it, keep the cash for your trouble. But I wouldn’t keep the lance itself.” Who knew if Monica was using an object to do the controlling. Hubert knew he only knew a fraction of the Slither’s powers, and mind control didn’t seem that much of a stretch for the people who could resurrect Jeritza.

Shamir continued to follow him, “Were you really attacked with an actual lance?”

Hubert declined to answer because he’d have to admit he’d attacked back with more far more force than permitted in the mock battle. They left the tent and went to join the spectators. The battle was coming to a close. Apparently Dimitri had been knocked out a while ago and Edelgard was closing in on Claude. Hubert felt a strong sense of class pride as the Black Eagles were declared victorious.


	8. Party at Gronder Field

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two very different fathers come to watch their sons at the Battle of the Eagle and the Lion.

Following the mock battle, the von Bergliez family always hosted a massive feast for the students of Garreg Mach and their parents. The students set up their tents on the field and prepared to enjoy the biggest party of the year. In the morning they would begin the march back to school. Apparently, Rhea had already departed, which was a little unusual but there was reportedly urgent church business to see to and Seteth and Flayn had gone with her.

The von Bergliez estate was sprawling and Dorothea was having a tough time picturing Caspar’s lack of an inheritance. Sure maybe he wasn’t getting this mansion, but it did not look like the youngest Bergliez was going to have to worry about sleeping out in the cold. She and Lysithea stuck close together as they moved through the massive house. Paintings of the various von Bergliez extended family adorned the walls, and there were many expensive looking vases and chandeliers around. It was difficult to imagine someone as rambunctious as Caspar running through these halls and not destroying the place.

Dorothea was relieved to find some familiar faces in the crowd. She didn’t like the idea of coming to a big celebration with people’s parents, given the likelihood that her own parent situation would be brought up. Dorothea’s mother had been a lady-in-waiting who had gotten knocked up by her mistress’ husband. When Dorothea was born without a crest, both were turned out onto the streets. Dorothea’s mother had struggled to keep a consistent roof over their heads, and passed away when Dorothea was seven. Dorothea had pleaded at her father’s estate for a job literally doing anything, but they were not interested in his little flea bitten bastard being so close to his legitimate children. She had spent a few scary years on the streets until she was discovered by the Mittlefrank Opera Company at age ten. Her piece of shit father had even hit on her once when she was a young teenager enjoying the success of her singing career. He didn’t recognize her last name, which she’d taken from her mother, or seem to mind that she was only fifteen. Dorothea was used to being objectified by disgusting men, but that had been a new low and had really firmed up her resolve to make something better of her life far away from Enbarr. So no, she had not invited her living parent to come watch the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. Lysithea’s parents did not leave their small holdings, so they were also not in attendance.

Edelgard’s uncle was here in place of her father, but Edelgard said she would talk with him later. There were many people here that Edelgard seemed to know that Dorothea had never seen before. They were in Empire territory and since the heir was head of the Black Eagles, many people had shown up to watch and support their future leader.

“Hubert, go talk to Ladislava,” ordered Edelgard as she pushed the mage forward towards a woman in an Imperial army uniform.

Dorothea and Lysithea exchanged glances. “Princess Ladislava?” said Lysithea under her breath to Dorothea about Hubert’s Edelgard stand-in when they were playing Dungeons and Dragons.

Edelgard was watching the interaction, clearly amused, “Ladislava is the head of my personal guard. Hubert has had a crush on her for years. Just watch.”

Dorothea did watch and felt her mouth drop as Hubert turned into a blushing and smiley version of himself in front of the earnest looking mid-20’s something woman. “Did she just tuck his hair behind his ear?”

“It’s unsettling seeing Hubert look so, happy,” said Lysithea distastefully.

Dorothea studied the plain but athletic soldier that had managed to turn Hubert into putty. “She’s _really_ muscular.”

“She’s very accomplished,” said Edelgard as she looked the head of her personal guard up and down. If Dorothea didn’t know any better she’d say Edelgard was just as interested in the cavalier as Hubert. Edelgard smiled fondly in Hubert’s direction, “I believe he was fifteen when he first met her, it took me all summer to figure out why he was acting so stupid every time she walked into the room. She was a pegasus rider then, I think that’s what really sent him over the edge.”

The three of them watched as Ladislava held up her left hand to show Hubert her engagement ring. “Oh, excuse me,” whispered Edelgard hurriedly as she went to go rescue her helpless retainer from hearing about his long term crush’s new fiance.

***

Felix’s father Rodrigue was standing around with Dimitri, Sylvain and Ingrid. The four seemed to be having a wonderful time and as Felix approached he could hear Rodrigue praising Dimitri’s performance in the mock battle. Rodrigue was adding something to the effect of what a shame it was Dimitri hadn’t stayed in for longer.

Felix looked at the banner that Rodrigue had brought — a sprawling blue lion on a field of white with big gold letters for the house name — and sighed. Felix’s parents had even gone to the trouble of making appliques of the crests of his friends Blaiddyd, Daphnel, Gautier, and Fraldarius, as well as the others represented in the house, Dominic for Annette and Lamine for Mercedes. Clearly a lot of time had gone into crafting it.

It was hanging above the area where all the people from Faerghus were standing and sitting. The Alliance also had brought a big Golden Deer banner adorned with various coats of arms. The Black Eagles had nothing. Rodrigue looked a little embarrassed when he saw Felix staring at the banner, “I didn’t realize you had transferred houses or I would have made another.”

“It’s fine,” grumbled Felix. He was glad his dad hadn’t made a Black Eagles banner, that would only make things even more awkward.

“So, what’s going on with you?” Rodrigue looked at him as if Felix was suddenly going to start sharing his feelings and ask for a hug.

“Oh I guess no one mentioned that they voted me out of the house?” said Felix taking satisfaction from the surprise on his father’s face. “That’s why I’m a Black Eagle now.”

“Felix I’m sure your friends will forgive you,” started Rodrigue.

Of course his father thought this was his fault, “I found new friends.”

“Can I meet them?” asked Rodrigue.

Felix froze as he spied the three mages he spent all his time with causing trouble by the buffet. Rodrigue had followed his line of sight, “Is that the little blond you teamed up with on the battlefield today?”

_Oh shit, he’s already walking over to them_, thought Felix desperately as he sprung to catch up with his dad.

Felix stepped in before his father could start introducing himself, “This is Lysithea, Dorothea, and Hubert. Uh, this is my dad.”

“Lysithea von Ordelia, pleasure to meet you,” said Lysithea as she shook Rodrigue’s hand. “Felix has told us nothing about you.”

“Uh, Hubert, von Vestra,” said Hubert stiffly as he looked down at Felix and his father.

“I’m Dorothea Arnault,” she said with an awkward wave.

Rodrigue wrapped his arm around Felix proudly and looked at the mages, “Well thank you for welcoming my son into the Black Eagle house, I know he’s a handful sometimes.”

Dorothea laughed, “A true pain in the ass.”

“Tortuous to be around, really,” added Hubert.

Felix groaned, “You’re all the worst.”

“Felix and I joined the Black Eagle house together, I’m from the Alliance,” said Lysithea in a half-hearted attempt to come to Felix’s defense. “Honestly, I think we’re both better off. We fit in great with these jerks,” she threw a thumb in the direction of Hubert and Dorothea.

“Oh, you, together,” said Rodrigue and Felix was horrified that his father seemed to think Lysithea was his girlfriend.

“We’re not dating,” said Felix, perhaps a bit too loudly.

To his utter horror, Hubert wrapped his arm around Dorothea who lifted her leg up in a very dramatic embrace, “Those weren’t double dates we’ve been going on this whole time?”

“Are you breaking up with me?” Lysithea started to fake cry.

Felix pulled his father away from those nut cases and back towards the Blue Lions and the safety of their comparative sanity.

***

“Oh his dad is so nice, look at that banner,” said Dorothea as they watched Felix scampering off. “I wish we had one.”

“I can’t believe my fake boyfriend just fake broke up with me,” said Lysithea with an exaggerated sigh. “He didn’t even seem fake sad about it.”

“You can go fake date Caspar or Linhardt, their parents are over there,” said Hubert with a nod. Dorothea could see the most important faces of the Empire’s politics gathered on the other side of the room.

“Are those Bernadetta’s parents?” asked Dorothea as her eyes narrowed in on a purple haired, sour looking man standing with a very mousy fearful looking woman beside him. Bernadetta had been no where to be seen that evening and now Dorothea understood why. Dorothea’s blood boiled as she considered giving Bernie’s dad a piece of her mind.

“Indeed,” confirmed Hubert with similar disgust. Hubert began to point out the other parents and guardians, “Lord Arundel, Edelgard’s uncle and sitting regent, The Duke of Gerth who is sponsoring Petra, and obviously Prime Minister von Aegir.”

Ferdinand’s dad was just as boastful as Ferdinand as he talked up his son’s mock accomplishments in the mock battle. He was balding and kind of paunchy, and Dorothea wondered if that’s what poor Ferdie was going to look like in thirty years. Luckily Ferdie’s mom was surprisingly hot, and Dorothea hoped for his sake he took after her.

“And who’s that?” Asked Dorothea of the stern, bald man standing behind the prime minister and regent.

Hubert made a sound deep in throat, “That would be the Marquis von Vestra.”

“_That’s_ your dad?” demanded Dorothea in a hushed voice as she looked again. She guessed she saw the resemblance, but maybe Hubert took after his absent mother. The Marquis was fit and muscular looking, and the only Empire noble not indulging in a drink. He had the similar high set cheekbones, but a very square, strong chin, not at all like Hubert’s pointed angular face. His eyes were dark, and seemed to be measuring everyone in the room. He had a very trim graying goatee and his head gleamed from what could only be daily shaving. Dorothea had always imagined Hubert’s father looking like a creepier, older version of Hubert, not a judgmental looking yet strapping silver fox.

“Where’s your mom?” asked Lysithea.

Hubert sucked in a slow breath, “Not here.” Hubert never ever spoke of his mother, and he would always deflect when asked about her. It was a topic that Dorothea got the distinct impression she should not ask about.

“Should you go, like, talk to him?” suggested Dorothea. She knew Hubert didn’t care for his father, but Hubert hated most people.

“Probably,” whispered Hubert with a sigh.

***

Hubert never wanted to be the type of person that _needed_ a drink, but damn if he didn’t want one badly right now as he finally approached his father. The Marquis’ eyes flitted from Hubert’s face, to his hair, to his sling, and lastly to his eyes. They were his mother’s eyes, and the Marquis never held their stare for long.

“Hubert,” said the Marquis as a form of greeting. “Lord Arundel informed me about your arm.” The Marquis regarded the embroidered sling coolly and Hubert wished he had not worn it; Bernadetta wasn’t even at the party to appreciate it. His father looked at him with utter disappointment, “Shave your face, you look like you crawled out of a gutter. It’s shameful.”

“Yes father,” whispered Hubert. It didn’t matter that Hubert was at least half a head taller than the Marquis these days, his father’s words alone still had the power to make him feel so incredibly small and worthless.

“I saw you were assigned to look after a little girl today, at least you are consistent with what you are good for,” whispered the Marquis. When Hubert was six, he was supposed to become a vassal for one Edelgard’s older crested brothers, the heir to the throne at the time. However, little Edelgard wanted Hubert to play with her and been quite insistent about it, and Ionius would not deny her. It was rumored Patricia was his favorite consort and he doted upon the young princess. The Marquis had politely requested that no, Hubert could not be the vassal for a younger girl, it was inappropriate for various reasons including that the von Vestras had always served the heir to the throne, not little princesses that were the 8th youngest child. Surely she would be better off with a girl companion, not a boy, what would people say? Hubert still remembered Ionius informing the Maquis that times were changing for the nobility and Hubert was lucky to have Edelgard to serve. Hubert did not believe it was a coincidence that it was Edelgard alone who had survived the torture of the Slithers to become heir with Hubert at her side. It was a vindictive, evil, display of power on the Marquis’ part. It was a message for the Emperor: the von Vestras served the heir, not the spares.

The Marquis looked disdainfully towards Byleth who was chewing with her mouth open and sipping a beer, “And that is the woman that the archbishop saw fit to assign to teach the empire’s youth?” Hubert watched his father looking at Byleth’s fishnets and exposed navel with total disbelief, “Is Rhea trying to insult us?”

Hubert didn’t exactly want to jump to defend Byleth; he found her quite disagreeable, but he also couldn’t bring himself to just outright agree with his father. He tried to focus on something the Marquis would appreciate, “She’s having me train in lances.”

“Good,” whispered the Marquis. Finally, headway. “Maybe you’ll finally make use of all that strength that seal blessed upon you.”

Hubert tried not to shudder, blessed, more like cursed. His father had been a dark knight back in the day. Hubert was a decent mage, but not an especially physical child, and the dark seal was supposed to rectify that imbalance.

The Marquis looked at Hubert as if trying to imagine his son finally donning armor and being a dark knight; it did not look like he was very convinced. Hubert looked up and to his horror, Byleth was coming over to introduce herself. Hubert briefly considered warping away but Byleth extending her hand and his father was politely shaking it.

“You must be Hubie’s dad,” said Byleth as she squinted trying to see the resemblance. _Hubie_, ugh of all the inopportune times for someone to use that nickname of Dorothea’s.

“That is what I’m told,” said the Marquis looking at Hubert. Byleth laughed, though Hubert knew his father had not said it as a joke. “Is he causing you much trouble?”

“Eh, well, he just failed a white magic exam, and he’s in detention more often than not, but at takes more than his share of kills on the battlefield, so I can’t complain too much.”

The Marquis hummed, “Yes, killing, that is what Hubert is best at. It was his very first act upon coming into this world.”

Byleth blinked, her blank face about as close to shock as it could get. The Marquis had loved his wife very dearly, and Hubert’s birth had killed her. Hubert’s father reminded him often that it had not been a fair trade.

Hubert used Hanneman coming over to extract himself from his father’s presence, and he hid himself in the crowd. He found Dorothea again and saw Lysithea over with Hilda, whose family was also absent. Hilda’s brother Holst had apparently ingested some bad mulberries earlier and was reportedly spending the party in the outhouse.

Dorothea sighed with disgust, “Oh my — wait, are people leaving here to hook up?” She started pointing out the couples, giggling and holding hands, leaving the hall. “And no one has even tried to flirt with me tonight? _Rude_.”

“You’re standing with me, they’re too afraid to come over,” said Hubert as he frowned.

Dorothea pouted and then got that annoying look in her eye as she poked him in the ribs, “Maybe you should go over there and talk to Petra and stop cramping my style.”

“Please stop insisting that I have a crush on Petra,” hissed Hubert. Petra was perfect — brilliant, athletic, so very nice to everyone — and also way too young for Hubert. “She just turned sixteen, that’s weird.” She was also much better looking than him; Petra was a ten, Hubert was at his best maybe a three, and he was rarely at his best as his father was so quick to point out.

“Eh, okay fine maybe it’s a little weird now, but you wouldn’t say that if she was twenty and you were twenty five,” argued Dorothea.

“Then I’ll wait,” said Hubert, content not to flirt with anyone.

“Ugh, what about Shamir? You’ve done weird sex things with her,” started Dorothea.

“No I haven’t,” said Hubert. Great another rumor!

“You said you couldn’t talk about what happened when you got those dice,” began Dorothea. “I just assumed it was too depraved, even for you.”

Hubert grimaced as he relived the experience, “It wasn’t, _sex stuff_, she wanted me to,” he paused, how could he even admit this? “She made me go to Alois’ stand up set with her because no one else would.”

Dorothea looked horrified, “What?”

“It was an hour and half of all of Alois’ worst jokes,” Hubert grimmaced, “Shamir laughed the whole time. It was awful.” He had maybe let Dorothea think that he had traded sexual favors for weird dice, because that was much better than the truth.

“So you’ve never had sex,” clarified Dorothea.

“Please, keep shouting about it,” said Hubert uncomfortably. Hubert had never even been kissed. Not that he’d ever admit it to Dorothea, but being that intimate with anyone was pretty high up on Hubert’s list of fears. Hubert had hands, or at least one working one at the moment, and an active imagination. It wasn’t a leap to go from picturing Ladislava and her glorious skull crushing thighs sitting on a horse to sitting on him, although now he’d have to add her saying something like, “_You’re so much better than Randolph_” to make things better now that she was engaged.

The idea of being naked and so vulnerable with someone else that you were trusting not to laugh at you, or worse, was not something Hubert felt like he was made for. Sex meant being completely exposed while someone kissed the areas around ones’ major arteries; it was the perfect opportunity to lure someone in and stab a knife into their carotid or external iliac. Who could possibly relax and enjoy that?

“Oh no, I know how we’re going to kill Monica,” said Hubert as a horrible, horrible idea entered his mind.


	9. The Jose Hornier Maneuver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hubert takes a leaf out of Sylvain's dungeon and dragons' character's moveset.

Hubert stared out the window of the Goddess Tower wondering if a fall from this height could actually kill a person. What a terrible way to go, perfect for Monica. Hubert sighed, he’d hated heights ever since he’d seen the accident. As a child, Hubert had been simply obsessed with pegasi, an infatuation that his father strongly discouraged, but that his governess thought was positively adorable. She had been the one who would take him out of the palace as a small child and down to the race track so that he could watch the air jockeys. They had been magnificent.

Hubert had understood even then that pegasus fliers were all slight women -- selected for their small aerodynamic builds and light weight -- but he was convinced that he could just find an especially big pegasus it could support the adult man he’d become. However, on one unfortunate day, one of the air jockeys had fallen. It had all happened so fast, the screaming, the free fall, the crunch on the ground, that Hubert had seen everything before his governess could pick him up and force his eyes away from the scene. After that, Hubert did not want to be a pegasus rider.

“So you’ll have to get her here, and convince her to sit on the window sill so that she’s the right level with you,” said Lysithea hopping up to sit where they were going to put Monica.

Hubert stood in front of her and sized up the area. Lysithea squeezed her eyes shut and mimed making out with Hubert, she then pretended to gasp and scream, “Oh no, Hubie! Whyyyyyyy --” she shrank her voice as if she were plummeting from the tower.

Lysithea jumped back into the relative safety of the abandoned tower. “Then she’ll be ker-splat. Easy peasy.” Hubert leaned against the wall near the window as he glanced out again trying to picture Monica falling from it.

Dorothea rolled her eyes, “Have we all forgotten the biggest obstacle in this whole plan?”

She was met with silence. Dorothea sighed and pointed at Hubert, “This whole charade rests on Hubert von Vestra successfully seducing this bitch.”

Hubert awkwardly scratched at the back of his neck. This was the part of the plot that he was the least well prepared for. “Well, I’ll dance with her and ask her up here,” he said. “And then I can say, ‘_Wow look at the moon tonight_’, and out the window she goes.”

Dorothea looked at Lysithea, “If Hubert casually asked you up here, would you go?”

“Oh hell no,” laughed Lysithea. She seemed to register Dorothea’s point. “Oh, _oh_.” Lysithea scratched her chin, “Hmmm. We need to make you look better. And you need to figure out what she likes. You’re going to have to slowly romance her for the next couple weeks leading up to the ball.”

“I look fine,” said Hubert angrily. Hair in his face, the scraggly beard that he didn’t have the courage to try and shave, no he was not a looker. Maybe Monica was into the escaped convict look though.

“Hubert you look fucking terrible,” snapped Dorothea. “She’s never going to come up here if you don’t put in any effort.”

Felix was quietly laughing and Dorothea turned her judgmental gaze towards him, “Oh really man bun, who the hell are you seducing?”

Felix stopped laughing and frowned. “I don’t have time for that.”

“Well at least you understand that it takes time,” said Dorothea as she strode over to Hubert. “You can’t just come up to a girl at the ball and expect her to be into you, especially you.”

“You don’t have to be so mean about it,” said Hubert as he listened to her. This was getting a little too personal.

“Yes I do, you are the weakest part of this whole plan, and if you can’t account for that, we’re going to fail,” complained Dorothea. She was being harsh, but she wasn’t wrong. “Monica, or Kroyna rather, is aware of your reputation with the Slithers, she’s going to be on guard around you.” Dorothea shook her head, “You have to start trying to infiltrate into her life. She’s always around Edie, so you need to get her alone and show her you’re a friend of the Slithers. Then you have to start to flirt with her. Ease her into the idea of being with you, if you go too fast and too strong she’ll know something’s up.”

Hubert had never successfully flirted with anyone in his life. “And how am I supposed to pull that off?”

Dorothea sighed with disgust as she shut her eyes. When they opened her face had changed, she was smiling, almost teasingly as she maintained eye contact with Hubert.

“You have to pay attention to her, and her alone,” she said as her hands slipped around Hubert’s waist.

“What are you doing --” he asked as she got far too close.

“Teaching you a lesson,” she said, still in a pleasant and strangely seductive voice. Her hands slid down his lower back as she gracefully guided him from the wall to lean against the ledge.

Hubert’s heart was racing as her hips lifted and touched his, and the rest of the Goddess Tower seemed to fade away. Dorothea’s soft lips slowly brushed against the exposed skin of his neck, causing gooseflesh to ripple along the course she was tracing. Her hands shifted to his front. One was tracing dangerously tracing up his thigh and the other came to rest on his chest as if she was feeling for the rapid pace of his heartbeat. Hubert felt his body betraying him as blood started moving to places he did not want Dorothea to know existed. She gently nipped at his earlobe and all bets were off.

“Get her totally focused on you,” whispered Dorothea in a voice that sounded just meant for his ears. “And then you push.” The hand she had placed on his chest applied a swift pressure. She wasn’t pushing hard enough to throw him out of the window, but the plunging fearful sensation of possibly falling coursed through him snapping him from the intimate moment. Hubert panicked and grabbed the side of the window with his left arm as if holding on for dear life.

“What the hell is wrong with you,” demanded Hubert as he got away from both her and the window. His heart was still pounding, though he couldn’t tell if it was from her seduction or the sudden dangerous turn she’d taken.

Felix was looking at them with his jaw slack with shock. Lysithea clapped, “Brilliant performance, very believable.”

Dorothea bowed, looking completely nonplussed by what she’d just been doing to him, “Thank you, thank you.” She looked back at Hubert and gave him a condescending smile, “Do you think you can learn to give such a convincing performance in less than a month?”

Hubert wiped his face with left hand as he paced, still coming down from whatever she’d just done to him. She’d managed to show him something he had never even considered wanting, and then in an instant turned it around and took it away --_ damn she was good at this_. Now he just had to figure out how to make Monica feel like that with him, in Lysithea’s words, easy peasy.

***

They gathered in Hubert’s room for the make-over. First Felix did Hubert’s hair in a bun. Lysithea made a disapproving face, that did not work on Hubert as well as it did on Felix, “No. We’re cutting it.”

Hubert looked at them very suspiciously, “Have any of you actually cut hair before?”

“How hard could it be?” Dorothea had out the scissors and immediately cut a chunk of black hair free.

Lysithea gasped as Hubert looked like he was going to absolutely murder Dorothea. She held up her hands, “Whoops, now it looks like we have to!”

Hubert’s hair got shorter and shorter until finally he wouldn’t let Dorothea take off any more. It was short in the back and on the sides, and had Dorothea kept going she might have gotten the bangs too.

Lysithea was surprised that it did actually look pretty good. Lysithea whipped out Hubert’s razor, “Okay that beard is next.”

“Please do not cut me,” whispered Hubert as he shut his eyes.

“I’ll do it,” said Felix as he took the razor off of Lysithea. That did little to relax Hubert.

“I wouldn’t have sliced his throat, much,” protested Lysithea.

Hubert’s transformation was nearly complete, and Lysithea grinned as Dorothea held up the garment bag with his new uniform, “I had Sylvain help me pick it out.”

“No,” whispered Hubert as he looked inside, “Please no.”

“Get in the tight pants Hubie,” ordered Dorothea.

“Are you least leaving while I change?” Hubert was super annoyed.

“I won’t peek,” promised Dorothea as she made a big show of covering her eyes. Everyone knew she was completely going to steal a glance.

Lysithea was cracking up, “No one wants to look at you Hubert.” Actually, she was morbidly curious as to what the mage’s underwear looked like — she imagined him wearing boxers embroidered with pegasi. She took the briefest of peeks, and to her horror she found out Hubert did not wear underwear. No more peeking for her.

Hubert did a mocking little twirl as he donned the very slim fitting uniform. He was clearly very uncomfortable and there was little left to the imagination. Dorothea however was extremely pleased by her selection: obscenely tight pants, a highly tailored shirt, and the same kind of vest Felix wore. Dorothea quickly undid the buttons of the vest and the top couple buttons of Hubert’s shirt. A thin scar that crossed his clavicle towards his neck was now just visible. Lysithea gave a slow clap, Hubert looked like a fucking bad ass that could give Sylvain a run for his money.

“Okay, okay, we have to get a spot check to make sure this is going to work,” said Lysithea as she grabbed Hubert by the wrist and pulled him out into the hall.

Lysitha knocked on Lorenz’s door, “Lorenz! I need you to approve an outfit.”

“Of course Lysithea, my pleasure,” said Lorenz as he opened the door and was met with Hubert. Lorenz’s jaw dropped as his eyes traced over Hubert, “von Vestra? This is, not noble.”

“Good reaction, thank you Lorenz,” said Lysithea as she pushed Hubert down the hall to Hilda’s door.

Hilda demanded that Hubert turn around a few times in circles as she appraised him, “Lysithea, I don’t know what you’re up to but I think you’re doing a great community service.” Ingrid was passing in the hall and Lysithea could see her eyes practically bulging in shock. When she turned back Hilda was getting a bit handsy, “Okay that’s enough, come on Hubie, we have work to do.”

As she was pushing him along they ran into Ferdinand, who regarded Hubert and his new look with wide, confused eyes. “Uh, Hubert, are we still taking tea today?”

Hubert gave Lysithea a look that clearly said “_I forgot_” but he quickly recovered. Lysithea was amused as Hubert began to practice the seduction techniques Dorothea had been drilling him in. He had also been following Sylvain around for the last week, mimicking the way the ladies man held himself and walked. Hubert leaned an arm against the wall and cornered Ferdinand, “How could I possibly have forgotten about you babe?” His voice barely sounded creepy, and Lysithea was surprised by how sexy Hubert had managed to make himself sound.

“Uh,” managed Ferdinand as he shrank down and looked very much like he wished Hubert would forget about his existence completely.

There was no such luck for poor Ferdie as Hubert draped his arm around him and pulled him in the direction of the tea gazebos. Lysithea silently cheered, if Hubert could flirt this flawlessly with Ferdinand, Monica would stand no chance.

***

Hubert moved his chair at the start of class so that he was no longer next to Ferdinand, he’d tortured him enough at tea, so that he could sit next to Monica.

“What brings you up here?” She asked suspiciously.

“Bad eyesight,” promised Hubert with a wink.

“You look _different_,” she said as she studied him, her eyes lingering on the scar that peeked out from his shirt.

Hubert shrugged apathetically, “I needed a change.” He sat in a way that his shirt was just open enough for her to see his Slither tattoo. He could feel her staring at it, good. He mimicked Sylvain’s trademark leg spread so that if Monica wasn’t careful their knees would gently bump.

He allowed things to slowly burn. It began as a small smirk when she’d say something rude about their classmates, which turned into a snicker or two. After a couple of days he let loose an honest to goodness laugh when she said something especially abhorrent. She noticed, “Do you really find me that amusing?”

Hubert shrugged, “You’re morbid, I appreciate that.” He paused and studied her breasts for a few seconds before locking into a staring match with her, “I appreciate many things about you Monica.”

She quickly looked away, unable to hide the way her cheeks had become as red as her hair. He was getting somewhere.

He started whispering ways in which he’d like to murder their classmates when they said something particularly dumb. She ate that up. He gently brush his gloved hand along her fingers as he passed her a fresh quill. Her breath seemed to catch in her throat. He imagined he was looking at Petra when he glimpsed Monica, that helped sell it. Finally after two weeks of sultry looks and laughing at her terrible jokes, Hubert asked Monica to tea.

“I don’t drink tea,” she challenged. Her face however said that she very much wanted to try.

“Funny, neither do I,” he said. He leaned in close to whisper, “It’s a euphemism.”

Monica bit her lip, “I’m very busy, official Empire business and all.”

“Well if you get bored, you know my room’s just next to Edelgard’s,” he suggested casually. “We could have a very private tea party.”

He’d made Monica blush again, perfect. She grinned, “I’d destroy you.”

“Not if I destroy you first,” said Hubert as he boldly tucked a loose strand of blood red hair behind her ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when Jasmine seduces Jafar -- Hubert is Jasmine in this scenario.


	10. The Remire Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hubert and Monica go on a very dangerous date, and Mercedes makes a choice.

Dorothea did not think that this sounded good at all, “She wants to show you something, in the abandoned chapel? Hubert, I think she wants to hook up with you.” Monica had asked Hubert on a date, way too early for their murderous timeline, and the idiot had said yes.

“You’re going to see your first boobie Hubie,” said Lysithea as she poked him playfully.

Hubert glared at her, “I’ve seen breasts before.”

“Boobert,” snickered Lysithea. “Edelgard’s don’t count —” Lysithea was silenced by the very murderous look that Hubert gave her.

“Can we focus?” Felix was looking at Hubert’s map of Garreg Mach from Dungeons and Dragons. “That’s really isolated, it doesn’t seem safe for you to go alone.”

“I agree,” added Dorothea. The sealed forest was huge, who knew what horrible things the Slithers might be hiding in there. “She’s either going to try to have sex with you, or kill you, or both.” Hubert did not look very enthusiastic about any of these scenarios.

“Well, I know I can warp us there,” said Lysithea. “But I’m concerned about making too much noise.”

“We could use silence,” suggested Felix looking smug.

All the mages looked at him as if he were an idiot. Lysithea snorted, “That’s not how that spell works.”

“Well maybe they should have named it something else,” muttered Felix under his breath.

“We could use a signal; you could be outside, and if I use it you know the jig is up and I need extraction,” suggested Hubert.

“So what were you thinking?” started Dorothea. 

“Lighting the place on fire,” said Hubert with a smirk. “I mean it’s just an old church.”

Dorothea screwed up her face, “How about something less dangerous for us to run into? How about if we hear you stunning we come running—”

“But if the chapel’s rocking we won’t come knocking,” laughed Lysithea.

Hubert shut his eyes, “I’m not having sex with her, please stop suggesting that’s going to happen.”

“Then what’s your escape plan when she’s got you cornered?” demanded Dorothea.

Hubert moved fairly fluidly as he pulled a knife out of his cast, “Stab her, somewhere lethal.”

“Who said romance is dead?” sighed Dorothea. She hoped he was as confident when it came time to actually do it.

***

The knock was too early, because Hubert wasn’t emotionally ready for this date. He reluctantly opened the door and to his relief it was pink hair, not blood red that greeted him. Not that he wanted to talk with Hilda, but he’d take her over Monica. “How can I help you Hilda?”

“I’m working on a little project,” started Hilda as she leaned in his doorway.

“You’re working?” Hubert smirked. That didn’t sound like Hilda at all.

She smiled brightly, “Mmmhmm. I was wondering if you would be at all interested in sitting down with Dedue and I to have some sort of _meeting_ between retainers.” The way she said meeting suggested that was not what she was really proposing.

Hubert narrowed his gaze, “And why would we do that?”

“Oh I don’t know, we could swap strategies for keeping our lords safe and sound, you know, how to keep them satisfied, pleasured,” suggested Hilda as she twirled a strand of pink pigtail in her fingers. “Maybe with some demonstrations.”

“And what has Dedue said about this?” Hubert did not have time for her nonsense.

Hilda winked at him, “I’m going to approach him next.”

Hubert sighed. This was truly preposterous, “Let me know how that goes. Excuse me I have a date.”

“You already have a date? I thought I was moving fast,” complained Hilda.

“Hilda, you don’t do anything fast,” said Hubert as he shut his door and edged past her into the hall.

“Well if it goes terribly you know where to find me,” called Hilda after him.

Hubert could not wait for all this to be over so that he could swap out these accursed, attention grabbing tight pants for his wonderful, big pocketed, baggy pants. Then everyone would go back to ignoring him, just as he preferred.

Monica was waiting for him near the bridge, where they began their idle walk out towards the abandoned chapel. Her hands were like ice as he held them, and she was humming an off key tune, “Did you hear there’s a just awful sickness spreading in the village?”

“I have,” said Hubert slowly. He wasn’t sure a Slither could get sick, but Hubert could and he had been washing his hands and replacing his gloves frequently since the reports of the mysterious illness started.

“So strange,” said Monica gleefully. “It would sure be terrible if there was an outbreak that spread all the way here.”

_Yes, that would in fact be terrible_, thought Hubert as he draped his arm around her shoulder, “Maybe Ferdinand and Caspar would catch it, that might finally shut them the hell up.”

Monica burst out laughing. “You’re the best,” she added softly, and she meant it. Hubert’s skin was crawling as she rested her face against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist to hug him as they walked. 

When they arrived at the chapel Monica was practically jumping she was so excited, “Okay, promise me you won’t tell Edelgard about this.”

That was foreboding, “I swear I won’t.”

She led him inside. Hubert spied the pile of buttons from his uniform he’d been meaning to collect. He’d have to find an excuse to grab those before they left. The chapel looked different since he’d last been there a few short months ago. For one, several pews had been destroyed by something big. There were also deep gashes in the support columns, and dark stains in the wood that Hubert could recognize as fatal amounts of blood loss.

Hubert felt one of the gashes and looked at Monica with a sneaky smile, “What have you been up to?”

Monica giggled, “Oh just experimenting.” She took his hand and led him into a darkened room. In the center was a box of red orbs, and they were glowing.

Hubert swallowed uneasily as he tried to think of something to say, “Those are pretty, they match your hair.”

Monica made a soft disgusted sound, “This isn’t my hair.” She sighed, “I wish I could show you what I really look like.” She picked up one of the orbs.

Hubert was behind her, and he braced himself for how unpleasant this was about to be as he leaned in and kissed the icy nape of her neck. “Why can’t you show me what you really look like?” It would be great to know what the hell he was up against.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Monica uncertainly. Hubert slid his hand along her arm trying to reach the orb. She quickly put it down and her voice became very serious, “Hubert don’t touch those, ever.”

“What are they?” asked Hubert as he pulled back.

“They’re like crest stones, but we made them,”

“We?”

“The Agarthans silly,” said Monica as if it were obvious. He had a real name now for the Slithers, something that could be researched. “We reverse engineered crest stones.” She turned towards him and embraced him. Her fingers traced the exposed skin of his chest, “And if someone without a crest, like you, comes in contact with them, well, lets just say you wouldn’t be my boyfriend any more.” She almost sounded worried for him as she looked up into his eyes. She stole a glance back at the stones with a mix of excitement and distrust, “Come on lets get out of this room.”

Hubert was relieved to get away from the fake crest stones. He was not relieved as Monica shoved him onto a pew and started to aggressively make out with him.

Her mouth tasted like raw meat that had turned. Maybe there was some cosmic balancing of the scales happening that this was his first kiss. Maybe the goddess was real and trying to punish him for his many sins.

“You know you’re really lucky,” she purred in his ear.

“Oh, why?” He did not feel especially lucky.

“I was super mad at you during that mock battle, but I know now you weren’t ruining my plan on purpose,” whispered Monica as she playfully undid her blouse.

“What was your plan?” Hubert rested his hand on her thigh in an attempt to get her stop grinding on him.

“I need the blood of that little annoying green haired girl,” sighed Monica. “Every time we’re in class I just wanna —” Monica was making fists with her hands. “Ugh, Jertiza fucked that up royally. I thought I could get her off Gronder, but you’re just so good at protecting people. Don’t worry, I’ll get her eventually.”

“Why do you need her blood?”

“You sure ask a lot of questions,” said Monica teasingly as she started sucking on his neck. He did not want a hickey from Monica but she was sucking so hard it was like she was trying to draw blood. Hubert patiently studied the ceiling as he waited for her to get bored.

She seemed annoyed with him after a while, “What do I have to do to get you hard?”

_Be anyone else_, thought Hubert. The idea of a three way with Hilda and Dedue, while absolutely mortally terrifying, excited him more.

He didn’t have to answer her because someone else had come into the chapel, “Kronya! What the hell are you doing?”

Hubert looked up in shock to see Tomas, the librarian. Monica looked mortified as she redid the buttons on her uniform, “Solon! Have you ever heard of knocking?”

Tomas did not look like a kindly librarian at the moment, he looked absolutely irate, “Teenagers! The worst!”

“I vetted him before I brought him here. We can trust him, he’s got the tattoo,” complained Monica as she rolled her eyes. She climbed off Hubert and put her hands on her hips, “I am so bored here at this school. Why can’t I have a little fun? You make me kill every other guy I bring here, maybe I just want a real boyfriend for once.”

Hubert had no idea what to do as Tomas and Monica got into arguing.

“You’re not here to date surface dwellers, you’re only here because your father got you this internship,” grumbled Tomas. “And von Vestra might be initiated, but he’s in the lowest level of trust!” Tomas was shaking his head, “Plus, he’s a real piece of work.”

“I know, that’s why I like him,” said Monica with a scoff. “He’s _fun_, you’re boring.”

Hubert cleared his throat, “Uh, maybe I should just go —”

“No,” said Monica. “Maybe Solon should go.”

Tomas gave a guttural sigh, “Kronya, we have work to do.” He looked at Hubert disdainfully. “von Vestra, get the fuck out of here. Breathe a word of this and I'll kill you myself.”

Hubert did not need to be told twice as he bolted for the door. Hubert got out and started walking, hoping that the others would see him and follow. Eventually Lysithea, Dorothea, and Felix warped to be just ahead of him so they could walk together.

“What was the fucking librarian doing there?” demanded Felix as he looked over his shoulder.

“That would be Solon apparently,” said Hubert.

“So did she steal your virginity Hubie?” demanded Lysithea. As always, Banshee was asking the hard hitting questions.

“No, but she did show me what she’s been hiding in there,” whispered Hubert as he thought about the glowing red stones. “She called people like her Agarthans, and they’ve been making fake crest stones.”

Lysithea grew pale, “Fake crest stones?”

“I know,” whispered Hubert as he exchanged a knowing glance just with her. It meant the crest experiments were changing, and that could not be good for anyone. “And she kept talking about the sickness in Remire, I don’t know for sure, but it appears they have something to do with that as well.”

As they got closer to campus, they could hear that things were not calm. Knights and students were running around making rushed preparations. Byleth looked at them wild eyed as they came in, “Finally, where have you four been? We need to go to Remire _now_.”

It wasn’t a normal mission. This wasn’t an assignment to go take care of some bandits. This was chaos in the nearest village. Whoever could be recruited to help was there with last minute weapons in hand. Byleth and her father were leading the charge.

Remire was burning. Hubert found himself in the back with instructions to protect the healers that had managed to get there in time. Mercedes looked self assured but Linhardt looked sick. Hubert felt less than confident until Lysithea tossed him the dark staff she had brought with her to the abandoned chapel. “Good luck,” she said as she strode up towards the front lines.

“Save the villagers,” ordered Byleth as she put on her gauntlets.

“Which ones?” demanded Caspar as they watched a crazed man go after another villager in the distance.

Byleth surveyed the scene, “The ones that look normal.”

“And do we just kill the other ones?” Dorothea looked horrified as she asked it.

“We save the ones that aren’t affected,” said Byleth. She looked at Jeralt who somberly nodded in agreement. “We don’t know what this is, we don’t know if we can cure them. Minimize loss of life.”

“Look!” said Edelgard as she pointed in this distance at cloaked figures. “They might be controlling this.”

“We’ll take them out,” said Jeralt as he readied his lance.

There wasn’t a rallying cry to let them know to begin. As the first crazed villager stumbled through the flames trying to get at them, Lysithea struck him down without hesitation. “No need to be precious about it,” said Lysithea darkly as she looked at Dorothea who looked utterly shocked that the young girl had just taken out a civilian. Felix took that as his cue to run forward with his sword as Ingrid followed close behind him.

Dorothea gave a frightened look back at Hubert before resolving to join them.

Hubert didn’t hesitate when the first crazed villager ran towards Linhardt. He did however not notice the next one running at him. Pain shot through Hubert’s arm as he used his cast to bash in the villager’s head. He was super glad he’d left Bernadetta’s sling back in his room before going on the date with Monica. Linhardt looked at the blood splattered on the plaster, “Ever the creative genius at killing, Hubert.”

“You sound like my father,” spat Hubert as he prepared to take down another villager. Unfortunately it was true, killing was his greatest skill. He was like a musician that only played in tortured screams, or a sculptor whose medium was bone and gore. Edelgard insisted he needed a hobby, well, Hubert was an artist on the battlefield.

He had killed quite a few villagers, and even managed to save a few, before Mercedes strode past him. “Where are you going?”

She pointed not in the direction of the cloaked figures that Byleth and Jeralt were fighting towards, but a hill to the west, “He’s here.”

Hubert looked up and saw the Death Knight in the direction Mercedes was heading. “Wait, no!” Hubert looked back at Linhardt, who he absolutely could not abandon, not here. “Lin, with me!”

Linhardt caught up as they trailed Mercedes, “Mercie, our classmates need your help. I need your help.”

Mercedes didn’t respond as she shot off healing spells almost arbitrarily but continued her steady pace west.

Hubert wasn’t sure he could reason with her, “He’s gone, it’s not him anymore!”

“You don’t know that,” she said turning back to look at him. Her eyes were streaming with tears. “Stop trying to stop me!” she yelled as she cast fire at them. Hubert pulled Linhardt out of the way just in time.

“Did-did she just attack us?” Linhardt asked in a panic.

Hubert didn’t want to hurt Mercedes, but he also knew couldn’t cover Linhardt from both crazed villagers and Mercedes. He looked out at the battlefield, and saw that Caspar was not too far across the way. “Run to Caspar, I will cover you,” said Hubert.

“You can’t be serious,” said Linhardt as he looked at the distance Hubert wanted him to cross in the open.

“Someone has to go after her, she’s going to get herself killed,” whispered Hubert. “And you need to be healing, especially if she won’t.”

Linhardt closed his eyes and gulped, “Okay, please give her your worst lecture for me.”

“You know I will,” grinned Hubert grimly as he sent the healer running. When he could see Linhardt safe behind Caspar, Hubert began to chase after Mercedes.

He ran for sport in the early hours of the morning, not because it was useful on the battlefield, but because he enjoyed it and it was something just for him. That was refreshing, this was terrible as smoke choked his lungs and burned in his eyes. As soon as he got close enough, Hubert reached out and tackled Mercedes to the ground, “Stop, please.”

She sent her elbow in the direction of his face as she scrambled to get free. “I don’t want to hurt you Hubert,” she warned. “But you’re not stopping me.”

Mercedes was strong, but she wasn’t stronger than him. Hubert held on tight as he tried to keep his face away from her pointy elbows. “Listen to me, don’t do this.”

“You don’t even know what I’m trying to do,” she protested.

“You’re abandoning your friends on the field of battle,” hissed Hubert. She stopped struggling as much at those words.

“He’s my brother,” she said defiantly, “He needs my help. There are other healers that can help the Blue Lions, but no one else will help him.”

Hubert looked up towards the Death Knight, who to his horror had turned his attention on them. Perhaps he shouldn’t have tackled Jeritza’s sister into the ground. The undead servant of death was now galloping their way.

Hubert released her and she tore towards Jeritza. The Death Knight was inscrutable behind his mask as he stopped his horse. Mercedes paused, “You hide yourself away, but I know who you really are.”

The Death Knight’s voice was deep and metallic, “I have nothing to say to you.”

Mercedes let her hands fall to her sides, “Please, Emile, I’m here for you. We can leave here, together.”

Hubert looked at the staff in his hands. The Death Knight was bound by dark magic to serve the Flame Emperor and the Agarthans; he was not riding off into the sunset to start his life anew with his dear sister teaching him how to be good. Mercedes was going to hate Hubert forever in about twenty seconds, assuming he didn’t get them both killed. He took Byleth’s favorite line of advice, and aimed for the head.

Mercedes screamed out as Jeritza blew back off his horse from the force of Hubert’s strongest spell channeled through the deadly amplifier that was Lysithea’s dark staff. Hubert sighed as he watched her run to her brother, and cradled his broken body in her arms. Hubert was hesitant as he approached them to finish the job if needed, when Mercedes held up her hand, ready to cast a spell at him, “I won’t ask forgiveness.”

“Then we will burn together,” warned Hubert as he left her to her grieving.

He could see that things were finishing; he spied Lysithea, Felix, Ingrid and Dorothea together helping villagers from their burning houses. Linhardt was sending off healing spells as Caspar covered him. Byleth and Jeralt had forced the cloaked figures to flee. Everyone accounted for except one. Hubert felt the panic rising in his chest and practically stopping his heart. Edelgard was no where to be seen.

Hubert broke into a run towards Byleth. His brain had gone blank except for one horrified thought - _Not again_. He was supposed to be by her side in battle, he was supposed to protect her and now she was gone.

“Where is she?” demanded Hubert.

Byleth looked up at him “Wha-”

“Lady Edelgard, where the fuck is she?” Hubert had his hand in a white knuckled grasp on Byleth’s shoulder before he caught himself and released her.

“Hubert?” Edelgard looked shaken as she stepped out from behind some trees. Hubert ran to her, he could not control himself as he hugged her close. For the first time in years, Hubert cried. They were tears of relief. Edelgard patted his back, “Hubert, it’s fine, I just stepped away for a moment, I’m sorry.”

He released her and tried to compose himself before more people came over and saw his emotional display.

“So the Flame Emperor was here,” said Jeralt sourly. He shook his head and spat on the ground.

Hubert suddenly felt incredibly stupid as he met Edelgard’s concerned stare. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed at her.

Byleth was looking at the burning village with her normal hardened glare. “The monastery is infiltrated; our adversary, Solon, was disguised as the librarian.” She looked at her father, “We have some rats to catch.” Hubert could see Edelgard staring at the ground at those words. Her hand had formed into a fist.

***

Much later in the night, Hubert and Edelgard met beneath the bridge. It was a pain to get to without warping, hence the ample privacy.

“I apologize for my conduct, I didn’t realize that you were going to appear to them in your mask,” whispered Hubert.

Edelgard took his hand, “I am sorry too. It was a last second decision. I won’t disappear on you again, ever.” She swallowed and he caught the furrow in her brow, “Solon has gone too far. This is unacceptable, I had to try to —”

Hubert understood. She was desperate to show that she was not the same as the Agarthans that they worked with. Hubert had his doubts though; once you took an ally, their actions were effectively yours, no matter how abhorrent you found them. It was something he constantly struggled with; he did the unsavory things so that they could not be blamed on Edelgard, but at the end of the day, he took those actions in her name. Was all the blood on his hands really only staining him?

“I’m planning something,” whispered Hubert. “Consider this fair warning. I’m have a plan to take out Kronya.” He took a deep breath, “I may fall on my sword for this, but I think it’s necessary.”

Edelgard looked up at him. For a moment he thought she was going to order him down, but she didn’t. “Good.” She looked in the direction of the still smoldering village with a distinct anger, “It’s time to remind these creatures that they are mortal too.” Edelgard tapped her foot, “When will you do it?”

“Soon,” promised Hubert.

“I trust you,” whispered Edelgard. It was her way of saying that she didn’t need the details.

They parted, but Hubert had one more person to talk to tonight. Seteth had posted extra guards at the morgue but when Hubert arrived they were all peacefully snoozing. A very pleasant white magic spell had been used to debilitate them. These guards were lucky he hadn’t gotten there first.

Mercedes was sitting on the slab with Jeritza, holding the vigil she’d wanted all along. He noticed she had a bag with her.

“Take another step and I’m going to put you to sleep,” she warned. It would almost be cute if it weren’t so serious.

Hubert held up his hands, “I just came to talk.” Hubert slowly sank down to sit cross legged on the floor, looking up at her. She stared down at him, a torch back lighting her golden head like some sort of flaming halo. It was his turn to sit in the light and have difficulty seeing her face.

“What’s your plan?” He suspected he already knew.

“If they come, I go with him,” whispered Mercedes.

“And if they don’t come, how do you face everyone after what you’ve done?”

Mercedes shut her eyes and took a deep breath. “If they don’t come, I’ll burn his body so he can’t wake up again. Then I’ll deal with what comes after.”

Hubert stared at her. “If you go, they’ll make you do things to prove yourself.” He bit his lip trying to think of all the things he could say to turn her from this bloody path, “They reject the goddess. They experiment on people, _children_ Mercedes, it’s not a place for you,” Hubert extended his hand, “We can burn him now, together.”

Mercedes gave him a resolute stare, “There’s a still a chance to save him.”

Hubert wanted to tell her she was wrong, but he supposed he did not know that for a fact. Hubert sighed, he wasn’t going to tell her she couldn’t go, he didn’t know what she was capable of. “Mercedes, try not to get killed, I’d like to meet you again,” said Hubert before he left her to her watch.

***

In the morning, Jeritza’s body was gone and Mercedes with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Mercedes' darkest timeline :/ Sorry, this was inspired by all the dark knight "mercedes death knight builds" 
> 
> Later, Hilda still trying to sell her sexy scheme to Dedue, "Well Hubert didn't say no...!"


	11. The Goddess Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go to plan, until they don't.

It was kind of unfair, Felix conceded, that when Lysithea killed the Death Knight everyone had cheered and when Hubert killed him, everyone said that he murdered Mercedes’ brother right in front of her. Both statements were true, but carried a decidedly different weight. Felix was sitting at the end of the table as Ingrid continued to rant about the battle to Sylvain. She was pretty conflicted about how they had been killing infected civilians without trying to find any kind of cure. 

Everyone was in a state of shock over Mercedes’ departure. Ingrid blamed Hubert for prompting the whole mess. To make matters worse, the big dumb mage had said to Felix that he was going to talk to Mercedes at the morgue, alone at his insistence, which Felix knew was a bad idea, and _poof_, in the morning she was gone. Hubert said that was a good sign, the Agarthans would have just left her body there if they had killed her. Felix rarely said the right words but Hubert was absolutely terrible at being comforting.

“Your house sucks,” said Sylvain in summary when Ingrid had finally stopped talking to take a breath. Felix suppressed his immediate response which was ‘_at least we still have a healer_’ because that was too mean, even for him.

Felix looked at the Black Eagles, who looked just about the least shook up about Remire despite most of them having actually been there, and had to agree with Sylvain that they did indeed suck. They weren’t really a house that handled emotion well. Linhardt, usually one for a sardonic comment or two, hadn’t spoken much since they’d gotten back to Garreg Mach. It turned out he did not like blood, which made Felix wonder why the hell he had enrolled in a military academy. Edelgard seemed pissed off, as per usual, and Hubert was extremely taciturn. Felix had watched him freak out at the professor when the battle was done; apparently he’d thought something had happened to Edelgard when in fact she was fine, he’d just lost track of her. It was almost a mirror of how Edelgard had reacted when Lysithea and Felix had abducted Hubert. Those two had serious separation issues for sure.

Dorothea looked depressed. Caspar, never one for deep emotional reflection, seemed normal enough. Lysithea was extremely unperturbed by the whole affair. It wasn’t the first time he’d fought beside her, but it was the closest he’d ever been to her during an actual battle. She was raw, brutal, and indiscriminate with her force. He’d also seen something he didn’t quite understand; when she was fighting he’d seen her crest, or crests rather, flashing above her. One was from the Kingdom, he recognized it from training with Catherine, _Charon_. The other, he wasn’t so sure, but it had definitely looked different. He wanted to ask her about it, but he wanted to wait until they were alone.

He had more immediate problems to deal with. Byleth had taken the whole “the librarian is secretly evil” thing to the top and was conducting light interrogations with Seteth this week. They were going alphabetically by last name asking the students in the officer’s academy questions. Felix was scheduled for questioning this afternoon.

Dorothea would be the first of the four of them to be questioned. She was a good actress but she also said she felt like the professor could see right through her. Felix wondered if Dorothea was going to crack under the pressure -- but at least that would mean someone else was taking care of Monica -- and give up the fact that they had just put together that Solon was Tomas. The four of them didn’t have much time to make a strategy because Dorothea only had about twenty minutes notice that she was getting interviewed. Felix wasn’t honestly even sure how much Dorothea knew; Hubert seemed to distribute information on a need to know basis. Sometimes Dorothea knew more than Felix, sometimes less. It was pretty infuriating to him to never have the full picture of what was going on.

Felix arrived at his appointed time to go sit in the queue of students. Caspar, Dimitri, Annette, and Ashe were all ahead of him. Marianne was sitting in the last chair looking at the floor. Felix stood beside her in silence and hoped he’d have a chance to talk to Dorothea before she left. The least they could do would be to present a consistent story.

Jeralt was standing outside the closed door of Seteth’s office, doing a little pre-interrogation warm up. He was helping put people at ease, but Felix got the sense he was also doing a bit of his own questioning in the process.

Caspar was next. He seemed less than nervous as he asked Jeralt how many arm wrestling competitions he had won. Felix wondered if Caspar had ever even been in the library. It was completely possible he couldn’t pick Tomas out of a lineup. Dimtri was staring at the wall pensively. He looked absolutely exhausted. Ashe was comforting Annette over what had happened with Mercedes. Marianne did not breathe a word. 

Caspar got called in and everyone bumped up a seat. Felix tried to talk to Dorothea on her way out but Jeralt stopped them. “Can’t have you comparing notes,” he warned.

Felix folded his arms and glowered. It took forever but it was finally his turn. Seteth was sitting at his desk, and Byleth was leaning against the wall. Dimitri and Annette had both been questioned for a long time. Byleth and Seteth both looked tired, and little irritated.

Felix took a seat on the couch and prepared himself. He was going to remain silent.

Seteth looked at him for a few moments before beginning with his line of inquiry, “I was surprised when you switched houses; what exactly prompted that?”

“I was kicked out of the Blue Lions,” said Felix. So much for silence. He hated the way he blurted things out when he was nervous.

“Dimitri said that you and von Ordelia abducted and tortured von Vestra,” said Seteth, clearly highly disturbed by whatever the prince had shared. “And that was why you were asked to temporarily leave the Blue Lions, but that you sought out the Black Eagles as a permanent change.”

Felix looked at his feet wishing the boar prince had kept his big mouth shut. “Yep.”

Seteth’s mouth was agape at the easy admission, “And now the three of you run around as the best of friends, how exactly did that happen?”

Best friends was a bit generous for three of them, they were much more like a criminal gang. “Uh, Lys and I thought Hubert was the Death Knight, so we followed him around and then things, escalated. But it’s all resolved now.” Seemed natural enough to him.

“_Lys_. You’re on a nickname basis now?” Byleth didn’t sound amused. “So you thought Hubert was the Death Knight, and instead of going to someone in charge, you took things into your own hands?”

“Yeah,” said Felix slowly.

“And later, you and von Vestra were caught after being attacked by whomever took Jeritza’s body,” continued Seteth. “I assume von Ordelia was there that night as well.”

Felix kept his mouth shut. It seemed like a pattern to their behavior had emerged. Byleth frowned, “Answer the question Felix.”

“Yeah,” whispered Felix. Lysithea was going to skewer him. This did not look good.

“How was Mercedes involved?” demanded Seteth. “Do you know where she is now?”

Felix froze up at the idea that he was suspected of having something to do with Mercedes disappearing, “Uh, Mercedes just showed up that night.” He paused and added, “I don’t know where she went.”

Seteth studied him. Byleth poked her head out of the office, “Dad, go get me Ordelia and Vestra, right now.” Felix sank down into the couch and waited.

Lysithea came in, arms crossed and eyes enraged. Hubert looked like he had been expecting this. Lysithea aimed to take a swing at Felix but Hubert caught her arm. He sat her on the opposite end of the couch and took the middle.

“Snitch,” she hissed as she moved to see Felix.

“Lysithea, stop talking,” whispered Hubert. He held Seteth’s stare.

“von Vestra we learned you were attacked by these two, why didn’t you report this?” asked the school disciplinarian.

Hubert cleared his throat, “I was concerned you would expel them. They were just following up on a reasonable lead, should we really be punishing initiative?”

“If students are attacking each other based on false accusations, there needs to be consequences,” said Seteth angrily.

“Well they have to spend time with me now, I’d say that’s enough punishment,” said Hubert in his dry way.

Byleth shook her head, “This is serious Hubert.”

“I am serious,” he responded. “Look, if you want to give anyone a hard time, give it to me. I’m the bad influence here.”

Seteth was going to say something more when Hubert dug into one of his tight pockets. For a split second Felix thought Hubert was going to pull out a knife, but he instead produced the weird key that Lysithea had branded him with. He tossed it onto the coffee table.

“What is that?” demanded Seteth.

“A peace offering,” said Hubert. “I stole that from Tomas, I don’t know what it opens, but maybe you can find out now that you’re looking into him.”

“You stole, from the librarian,” began Seteth suspiciously. “Why?”

Hubert shrugged, “I steal stuff from you too Seteth; have you noticed all my knives are missing yet?”

Seteth withdrew a key to open his locked desk drawer and frowned. “Who else have you stolen things from?”

Hubert held up his hands, “I’m like a crow, I don’t discriminate when I see something shiny that I want in my collection.” He sighed, “Come on Seteth, how many times have you caught me somewhere I’m not supposed to be? Doing something I shouldn’t be doing? I was poking in Tomas’ business because I’m in _everyone’s_ business. Not because I knew anything sinister was going on.”

“And why bring these two along with you? You’ve always been the loner type,” challenged Seteth. Felix didn’t think Hubert was a loner; he was part of a very tight partnership with Edelgard.

Hubert regarded Felix and Lysithea fondly for a moment, “After they managed to catch and torture me I realized they have wonderful potential. They just need good guidance in being bad. I consider them my apprentices in trouble. Garreg Mach is very large, I can’t possibly create enough havoc here all on my own.”

Seteth closed his eyes. Byleth looked unamused and like she’d just had her time wasted. Seteth stared at them closely, “I want you three idiots to leave my office. Whenever I see you on campus together outside of class, I will assume you are up to no good and give you detention.”

“What if it’s just two of us together?” demanded Lysithea. Felix was pretty sure Lysithea had never had a detention ever. In contrast, Felix knew for a fact Hubert kept his schedule permanently cleared from 3 to 5 pm in anticipation of having detention.

Seteth glared at her, “I will consider the circumstances and how suspicious you look. Now go.”

Felix could barely believe they were leaving that office without further interrogation. They hustled to get out of the building and away from listening ears. Lysithea looked perturbed, “Why did you give them that key?”

“To distract them,” said Hubert. “Also I feel like they might search our rooms, so if you’ve got anything questionable you should probably move it.”

Felix was going to have to thoroughly search under his bed. “So what do we do now?”

Hubert looked at them darkly, “Come on, we’ve got to go kill my girlfriend.”

***

There was a question of whether the ball ought to have been canceled all together, but morale was low, so the event was put on to help lift the dispirited air around campus. Hubert had asked Monica to meet him at the Goddess Tower early; the plan was to have it be as empty as possible. Lysithea and Felix would be posted at the base of the tower to take her out if she didn’t die right away, and Dorothea would provide Hubert back up in the tower itself. Then Felix and Dorothea were to arrive at the ball, followed by Lysithea and Hubert who were going to warp to dispose of the body. Felix was most uncomfortable about the last part, and highly suspected that Lysithea and Hubert were going to be doing an impromptu autopsy.

Felix and Lyisthea had picked a nice bush out to sit behind while they waited. Lysithea did look dressed for the ball and not for slicing up a body, which was relieving to Felix.

“You look nice,” said Felix.

Her eyes got a little suspicious, “Thank you, Dorothea did my make up.”

Felix twiddled his thumbs a bit, “So, crests.”

“What about them?” asked Lysithea, her suspicion only seeming to intensify.

“I saw yours flash during battle,” said Felix. “Which one was it again?”

“I don’t like talking about crests,” she said as she folded her arms.

Felix wasn’t any good at trying to tease out information with words, “Because you have two?”

“That’s impossible,” said Lysithea.

“Did the Slithers do it?”

The words hung between them until finally Lysithea nodded. She looked resigned, “Yeah, that’s why when I saw Hubert’s tattoo I freaked out because they were covered in symbols like that.” She shut her eyes, “And when I was in the morgue and heard Thales speaking, I recognized his voice, he was there.”

“When did it happen?”

“I was two,” she whispered. “I know I had siblings, but I don’t really remember any of them. My earliest memories are just darkness, with flashes of Slithers.” Felix didn’t know what to say, and decided that silence was better than trying to stumble through this. “It also means I’m going to die soon,” she whispered. She didn’t sound sad, she sounded angry.

“How do you know that?”

“They told my parents when it was done that they didn’t expect me to survive long,” said Lysithea. “But here I am. I just don’t know how much time I have left. That’s why I hate wasting it.”

They were silent for a while. Felix finally cleared his throat, “So what do you want to do with the time you have left? Other than fuck up some slithers?”

He saw her smile slightly at that. “I don’t know, live? It was really hard to leave my parents, knowing that the more time I spend away from home the less I’ll have with them, but I have other things I want to do.”

“Like what?” Something was stirring in Felix; he wanted to help her do the things she wanted to do before it was too late. He didn’t know the first thing about crests or how to fix her, but he did understand wanting to live on ones own terms.

“You’ll think it’s dumb,” she said.

“No I won’t, I don’t think anything you do is dumb,” said Felix. It was true, she was probably the smartest person he knew.

She mumbled something, Felix strained to hear, “What?”

“I said I want to go on a date with you,” she grumbled, sounding embarrassed.

“Why me?” It was not what Felix was expecting to hear.

Lysithea got really red, “Because I like you? Why do you think I was creeping on you at the library when we first started talking?”

“I don’t know I just assumed you were interested in the book,” said Felix defensively.

“Gah, you’re so stupid,” she whispered sounding embarrassed.

“I’ll go on a date with you,” shrugged Felix. “But not to tea, I don’t do tea time.”

“Wait what?” whispered Lysithea in shock. “You’re not going to make fun of me?”

“You’re dying I can’t make fun of you,” he protested. She punched him in the arm. “That was a joke,” he added. He felt like Hubert was rubbing off on him and not in a good way.

“So, you, uh, wanna make out?” asked Lysithea as she glanced up at the Goddess Tower.

Felix got flustered, “I uh, guess.” He’d never made out with anyone. As she kissed him it was apparent that neither had she.

Lysithea pulled back from him, “Well we have some time to kill before Monica takes a fall, so maybe we could work on getting better at this?”

“Like training,” said Felix.

“Exactly,” said Lysithea as she leaned back in. “No reason Hubert should have all the fun tonight.”

***

Hubert was having no fun at all. He could literally see Lysithea and Felix making out in a bush from the window and shook his head. He was going to revel in giving them a super embarrassing sex talk later. For now he was waiting for his own evil girlfriend to show up so they could break up in a dramatic fashion.

It was extremely possible Monica was going to stand him up. The heat was on Solon, and she might not have time to get away from their terrible business. However, Hubert had promised that he was finally ready to do _it_, and he had a feeling that would get her here. He’d spun some fantasy about wanting to desecrate the Goddess Tower that seemed to get her very excited.

Hubert looked up doubtfully at the ceiling of the rickety tower; it seemed like a death trap. He didn’t see the appeal. So some girl had met the Adrestian emperor here a thousand years ago and became his wife? Hubert very much doubted that was the entire story. If anything, there had been a shady early von Vestra standing in the shadows, carefully moving things into place and arranging the match between the emperor and an imperial consort. No one, especially not an emperor, got married to a stranger they met some night in a tower unless contracts were signed before that. He doubted people would think that the story was so romantic if they realized that.

He’d tried to explain this to Dorothea during one of their many detentions, but she had shushed him and told him he was a killjoy. She had convinced herself that he wanted to take Edelgard up here and finally confess some bottled up lust for her. The idea of kissing Edelgard was borderline incestuous for Hubert; he loved her, but not like that. Besides, Edelgard did not like men. Perhaps as a little girl she had talked about marrying boys and having children, but a grown Edelgard had discovered there were other options that didn’t involve princes and continuing bloodlines.

She didn’t want children, or at least she didn't want to have her own. Edelgard intended to reforge the empire, and to do so she would do away with the von Hresvelg line. She was going to erase the crest of Seiros, just like she was going to erase Seiros herself. No more imperial line meant no more minister of the imperial household, and that was fine by Hubert. The von Vestras had no future in the new world order. Hubert was going to be fucking free. He’d always stay by Edelgard’s side of course, but it would be his choice not his duty.

He was hers, and she was his.

That had been the mantra he had lived by for almost fifteen years. However, he wondered if the two of them had _other_ people now as well. Who was going to stand with them when the war came? Edelgard had convinced herself it would just be them, but Hubert was trying to show her they could be stronger than that.

“She’s late,” complained Dorothea from the shadows. Hubert shushed her. It was dark out though, maybe Monica was standing him up. While Hubert was drawn to the drama of elaborate assassinations, every time he found himself playing a part in them he realized how much he preferred the simple intimacy of a quiet killing. That’s what he was really good at; this had too many moving parts.

However, someone was in the tower, and they were coming up the stairs. Monica, finally. “Sorry Hubie! I got caught up with some uh, work stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” asked Hubert as she hugged him. He might as well try to get as much information out of her as possible.

“Just Solon being Solon,” grumbled Monica. “I heard you killed Jeritza, was it fun?”

“Not especially,” said Hubert thinking back to the terrible moment and his conversation with Mercedes. “What happened with him after?”

Monica shrugged, “I don’t know, not my problem.”

He figured if she knew about Mercedes being tortured somewhere she’d waste no time in telling him gleefully. This was probably good that Monica hadn’t heard anything worth sharing. She looked up at him expectantly, “So where are we doing this?”

Hubert took a deep breath as he lightly took her hand with his left and rested his cast against her back as he danced her though the tower towards the window. He leaned her into the window and pretended to appreciate her face in the moonlight. He leaned in and kissed her as he suppressed his revulsion at the taste of her saliva. His hands found her waist to lift her up so that he could sit her on the window sill, and he felt her legs wrap around him. _Not good_, thought Hubert desperately as he felt her holding on tightly with them. Her icy fingers were weaving through his hair as he moved his lips down her neck. He had to get her legs open and not on him. Hubert braced himself as he brought his free hand into her skirt, “May I?”

“Only if you take your gloves off,” she teased as she spread her legs and freed him. She had given him his opening. Hubert pushed with all his might.

Monica moved with breathtaking speed as she hopped up and stood on the sill looking down at him with anger. Her foot slammed into his shoulder and he stumbled backward and fell. Monica jumped down to stand over him and laughed, “You pathetic fool.” She drew her knife, “Why did I have a feeling this was going to end with you dying? Oh that’s right, this is how all my relationships with boys at this school end.”

Dorothea sprang out of the shadows with her sword, “Not tonight bitch.”

Monica looked between them and started to laugh, “Oh no Hubie, you already have another girlfriend?”

“Yeah and I’m the jealous type,” said Dorothea as she darted forward to take a slice out of Monica. Their blades clashed as Dorothea fought Monica back to the window.

Dorothea kept pushing with her long blade against Monica’s little dagger until she had lined the red head up perfectly, “Now!”

Hubert cast the most powerful spell he knew, Death, at Monica as Dorothea jumped out of the way. They watched together as Monica was pushed straight out of the window.

“Wow, that actually worked,” said Dorothea breathlessly as she sheathed her sword.

Hubert looked out the window and felt his stomach fall. Monica was standing looking annoyed and very much alive. She looked up and smiled, “Oh Hubie, you’re so dead!”

Lysithea popped up from the bushes with her dark staff, “Eat shit Kronya!” She blasted her.

Monica blocked and returned fire. She looked hatefully up at the window and him in it. Hubert watched her hands moving and cursed as he sprinted from the window. His training took over: act as a shield first, worry about returning fire after. He grabbed Dorothea to pull her with him as the ceiling above them crashed down in a flash of purple light and the sound of breaking beams. Hubert could just barely hear more magic happening outside and Lysithea angrily shouting. Mostly all he could hear was the panic in Dorothea’s breathing right in his ear.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

“I think so,” she whispered back.

He tried to lift himself up but found that the debris was too heavy. Warping with stuff on top of oneself never went well. “I think we’re stuck until Lysithea and Felix send us some help.”

“This is the worst night ever,” groaned Dorothea as she squirmed beneath him to test to see how much space they had. It was tight.

“It’s not over yet, it could still get worse,” promised Hubert. Monica could totally come back up and finish them off.

“Thanks for the optimism Hubie,” complained Dorothea as she tried to readjust her position. Their legs were tangled up and her arms were pretty much pinned beneath him. Hubert could just cup his hand over her forehead to stop the dust from falling into her eyes.

“This is not what I pictured for my evening in the goddess tower,” sighed Dorothea.

“Oh yeah, what were you hoping for?” Likely, being with anyone but him.

“Well for starters, not getting buried with you on top of me,” said Dorothea.

“Would you rather be on top?” joked Hubert. There was a corner of a beam uncomfortably pressing into the back of his thigh. He’d gladly swap with her.

“I was also hoping for a kiss from a certain professor,” whispered Dorothea wistfully.

Hubert sarcastically pecked her on the cheek, “Not quite the same, but there you go. I don’t know why you’re not having a great time.”

“Oh my goddess,” snapped Dorothea rolling her eyes. “Sorry about your ears,” she prefaced before beginning to practically sing at the top of her lungs for some help.

They did hear footsteps coming up the stairs and some voices. Hubert was relieved as two very strong people began to clear the wreckage from on top of them. His relief was short lived, “It’s Hubert, _and Dorothea_?” It was Edelgard and Byleth who had come to their rescue.

They were pulled free and helped up by the two confused women. Edelgard looked concerned, “We heard an explosion. Were you casting spells at the tower?”

“Or were you doing some magic on each other?” smirked Byleth.

Dorothea looked like she wanted nothing more than to die of embarrassment on the spot. Hubert cleared his throat, “We were testing the structural integrity of the place. I wouldn’t want it to collapse on Lady Edelgard since you apparently thought it appropriate to bring her here.”

“Bring her? No, she brought me,” said Byleth with a teasing, self-satisfied grin.

Edelgard was giving him an extremely quizzical look as her eyes traced between him and Dorothea.

“Ah, well, we should be going then,” said Hubert hurriedly, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible. “Enjoy your evening, be safe, this tower is shaky.” He pulled Dorothea towards the exit.

They got down the stairs as fast as they could. “Can’t get any worse than that,” said Dorothea morosely as she attempted to fix her hair. They were both dusty and disheveled as they exited the Goddess Tower.

“Ooooh,” came an unwelcome cooing voice from a passer-by. Hilda was cracking up as she and Claude walked toward ball, they sang together, “Hubie and Dory sitting in a tree, f-u-c-k-i-n-g.”

“Nope, now it’s definitely worse,” said Hubert as he tried his best glare at the pair. It was completely ineffective.

“Well, if you ever wanted to murder anyone for me, I think I pick those two,” said Dorothea as they trudged towards where Felix and Lysithea had been posted.

Lysithea was singed but otherwise fine. Felix was coming back looking a little out of breath, “She was too fast. She was going towards the forest.”

Monica was bound to come for her revenge. Even if she didn’t come after the four of them, she would come for the other Black Eagles. That was not an option. Hubert grimaced, “I think we need to call in reinforcements.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Felix and Lysithea test the waters of a budding relationship, and Hubert and Dorothea...don't.


	12. The Cause of Sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, if you haven't finished Chapter 9 of the game... SPOILERS ahead!

When Seteth agreed to chaperone the ball, he thought his greatest challenge was going to be maintaining a respectable distance between the bodies of dancing students and preventing anyone, especially Manuela, from spiking the punch. He rubbed his temples as his troublesome trio all yelled at him at once. Now it was clear to him that Arnault was in on the mischief too, making them a danger square in Seteth’s mind.

Hubert and Dorothea were covered in scrapes and dust and looked like they had been in the middle of some sort of demolition. Felix was dripping with sweat and Lysithea’s sleeves had fresh holes burned in them. The threat of detention clearly meant nothing to these delinquents. Seteth wondered if he ought not try leaving them in the dungeon weekdays from 3 to 5 instead, although knowing these students he imagined they’d find some way to make him regret that too.

“One person talks at a time,” said Seteth as he raised his voice above their arguing.

Everyone’s eyes fell on Hubert, their incompetent ringleader. Seteth braced himself for the inappropriately timed sarcasm that was about to drip from von Vestra’s thin lips.

Hubert took a deep breath, “Solon is working with at least one person pretending to be a student, Monica von Ochs, and I think their base is the abandoned chapel.” Seteth generally found Hubert’s face inscrutable and unpleasant to look at, but right now he looked almost desperate. Was it even possible for von Vestra to speak truth?

Seteth didn’t trust Hubert as far as he could throw him. Seteth was a deceptively strong man, but Hubert was annoying big and not at all aerodynamic. He clearly held to a personal code, although Seteth found his morality to be highly questionable. However, Seteth couldn’t deny that when Flayn had been endangered, Hubert had rescued her, and when Felix and Lysithea were in trouble, it was Hubert that had tried to take the blame. Perhaps there was just a splinter of goodness buried within him after all.

Seteth stared at the group in disbelief, “Why didn’t any of you just tell me this hours ago? We could have done something earlier.”

“Because a couple of hours ago we were still handling it,” said Hubert. Seteth sighed; this was the root of the problem. Perhaps he should have never encouraged von Vestra by giving him an advice column in the student newspaper. It was abundantly clear Hubert was a problem maker not a problem solver.

Everyone was suddenly quiet as they waited for his response. Seteth felt his nostrils flaring and his brow contorting despite his efforts to look neutral, “I cannot get the knights of Seiros together in time when they are off duty, but we can use the students of the officer’s academy. Prepare yourselves, we meet at the entrance to the sealed forest in half an hour.”

Seteth signaled for Hanneman and Manuela to come over, and told them to gather their charges. He found Jeralt and told him to get Byleth to do the same. There was no need to rile up the whole monastery, especially if this lead turned out to be a huge waste of time. Yet if there was some credibility to these claims, Seteth wanted to make sure to bring the proper force to meet it.

***

Hubert appeared in Felix’s doorway looking less like Monica’s boyfriend, and much more like himself. He had changed back into his normal baggy uniform and was holding a bow saw. Felix looked at him wildly, “What is that for?”

Hubert handed it to him, “Get this cast off of me.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” On second thought, Felix was beginning to suspect that no idea of Hubert’s was good.

“It was supposed to come off in a week anyway,” grumbled Hubert. “How much of a difference could it make?” Hubert invited himself into Felix’s room and put his arm down on Felix’s desk. The plaster had seen better days, and was now covered in a mix of dirt and dried blood.

Felix looked at the saw and could see VESTRA scratched into the handle, “Why do you even have this?”

“What, you don’t keep a tool box? What if you have to fix, or _remove_, something?” demanded Hubert. “Please, hurry up.”

Felix really didn’t like the way Hubert said remove and he looked at the saw wondering if had been used to open a throat or break down a body.

“What are you waiting for?” Hubert asked impatiently.

Felix took a deep breath and got to work. The cast and the skin beneath it smelled weird and Felix wished Hubert had time to hit the sauna before they left for the mission.

Hubert was muttering, more to himself than to Felix, “I should have stabbed her and then threw her out of the window, so stupid.”

When the cast came off Felix was deeply unsettled by the way Hubert scratched the skin he’d been unable to reach for weeks.

“How does it feel?” asked Felix, hoping that taking off the cast wasn’t a bad idea.

“Weak,” whispered Hubert disdainfully as he shook out his hand and flexed his fingers. “Come on, let’s go.”

As they neared the meeting point, Felix saw Sylvain leaning against a tree with his lance, “Any idea what’s going on?”

Felix shrugged, what was he supposed to say? That they’d botched offing Hubert’s fake girlfriend and now they were storming the abandoned chapel hoping she’d still be there? People were grumbling about being pulled away from the ball and Felix did not want to be the focus of their ire, “I have no clue.”

He glanced over and could see Edelgard and Hubert having a quiet conversation. Felix edged closer to spy on them.

Edelgard was pinching the bridge of her nose, “Why didn’t you tell me she was making threats against members of our house?”

“I was dealing with it,” insisted Hubert.

Edelgard looked directly at Felix attempting to spy on them and then at Hubert, “Whatever this is you’re doing, it’d distracting you. You need to focus.”

Hubert gave Felix a look that said ‘_shoo_’ as he sighed, “Understood.”

Byleth was calling the Black Eagles together to discuss the plan of attack. They would be going to the abandoned chapel, and they were warned to be on their guard. As they got closer, the students of the officers academy became silent and the mages let their lighting spells die down to barely a flicker. The grayish purple sky was threatening rain, and it was monstrously hard to see.

Felix’s ears perked up as he heard a low rumble from deep in the woods. Demonic beasts were hiding in the trees around the chapel. One stepped forward slowly placing itself between the officers academy students and the building. Hubert lightly hit Lysithea on her shoulder and pointed to the red glow of an orb sticking out of the beast’s face, “That’s the fake crest stone.”

“So they can control the beasts?” whispered Lysithea.

“Presumably,” said Hubert under his breath.

Someone located near the chapel had heard or seen them, and began to cry out for help. The beast turned to snarl and then lunged in the direction of the cry.

“There are students being attacked,” yelled Seteth as he gestured with his lance. “We must get them to safety!”

The Blue Lions were sent to secure the west, the Golden Deer to the east, and lastly Byleth led the Black Eagles in a charge directly towards the chapel.

Felix could not see for shit as he followed the bright glow of the Sword of the Creator into the fray. The darkness was punctuated by the bright glow of magical circles flashing around the mages. Felix had to use those brief moments of light to place his attacks. The beasts weren’t quite like ones he’d fought in the past. They seemed confused, or dazed. When they attacked, it was completely random who they would focus in on. It was as if they did not understand how their bodies worked.

The Golden Deer students were down one primary battle mage. Felix caught sight of Lysithea breaking from the Black Eagles to run east to help her old classmates, and he chased after her. The Golden Deer were holding their own, they were a physically strong class, but neither Lorenz nor Marianne had been specializing in attack magic until Lysithea’s departure, and they had a long way to catch up. Lysithea’s attacks cut a blinding path as she got close.

As Felix trailed her she shouted, “Why are you following me?”

“To help you?” He figured that was what one did with someone they had just made out with hours earlier. 

They could hear a scream piercing the night, but there were so many students it was impossible to pinpoint who it had been. Lysithea sounded annoyed, “Go help them, I’ve got this!”

Felix realized as she shot off another bright attack that Lysithea did not need any help from him on the battlefield. He backtracked to the Black Eagles where he could actually be useful.

***

Hubert sprinted into the warp and came running out on the other side of the demonic beast. He had no idea who the student was that he grabbed but at least she felt human, and not like an ice cold Agarthan. He warped with her back to where Linhardt was stationed trying to heal both for the Black Eagles and the Blue Lions. Hubert watched her collapse to the ground as he released her from his arms. She seemed incredibly weakened and Hubert wondered how long Monica had been keeping people in the chapel. His heart sank as he realized he might have found them if he had poked around more when Monica brought him there. He didn’t have time to dwell on it as he warped again.

***

Lysithea saw the purple flashes dotting through the trees and hoped that Hubert knew what the fuck he was doing. Back to back warping in battle was an absolutely terrible idea. It was massively exhausting and if you got spent and needed to cast, well you were shit out of luck. Then there was the added consequence of needing to plan out where you were landing so you didn’t end up in the midst of friendly fire. The lecture practically wrote itself as she watched him stumble a bit as he landed from the last one. She was satisfied her old house could handle finishing off their beasts as she rushed to grab Hubert before he killed himself.

“Stop, are you trying to die?” she yelled as she took hold of his arm. 

Hubert vomited to the side of her. Generally when a mage got to the point of vomiting it meant they should seriously stop casting. Hubert weakly wiped his lips, “I can keep going.”

Lysithea didn’t get a chance to argue when the first demonic beast to fall let out it’s sickening death cry. Hubert had his hands on knees as he supported himself. Lysithea begrudgingly let him lean on her so they could both see what everyone was freaking out about. Apparently the demonic beast had turned into a student upon being killed. Hubert threw up again and Lysithea had a half a mind to do the same.

***

Seteth was horrified. Had he known the seriousness of Hubert’s claim, he would have brought actual knights, not students, to conduct this business. Now he was seeing that the children he was charged with caring for had been forced to turn into demonic beasts by some incredibly dark magic. Seven demonic beast killed; seven students killed. Seteth wanted to get into that chapel, he wanted to burn it to the ground. This was no longer a holy place.

***

Jeralt spit on the ground as they finished cleaning things up. It was almost dawn. This had been a messy, confusing fight even by his standards. He directed the last student he found, some red head that didn't seem especially scared, onto safety. She was saying something that he didn’t quite pay attention to, but then he could not ignore the way his legs seemed to just disappear beneath him. He was on the ground and he could still see his legs, but he could not move them. He saw the harsh light of his kid’s whip sword flash, flash twice? Didn’t matter. Jeralt looked up as Byleth came into view. It was raining, no, wait, those were definitely tears, and they were for him. He always wished she’d show some emotion, anything to let him know someone other than his little Ashen Demon was inside, but he wished that they would be happy tears, not mournful ones. He’d waited a long time to die, but now that it was here he wished he’d had even just a few moments longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if you thought Jeralt would be spared, this isn't that kind of fic.


	13. Not much for condolences

Seteth had suspended Hubert from classes while it was determined what to do with him. They’d searched his rooms, and for good measure had humiliated Felix, Lysithea, Dorothea and, to his utmost regret, Lady Edelgard by searching their rooms as well just in case Hubert had attempted to offloaded anything. He had a good explanation for everything the knights found. His tool box was honestly for fixing things; it wasn’t Hubert’s fault that a hammer could be turned lethal with the right amount of force. They had mutilated his pegasus, which had been handmade for him by his beloved governess before she was let go. Seteth thought Hubert was using the stuffed animal to smuggle or hide small insidious objects. Hubert just kept it because it was soft to sleep against and reminded him of someone who had been so nice to him that she had been fired. If anything, the pegasus was the thing that he had been forced to hide and smuggle over the years — in his dark mage mask once, in pillow cases, under mattresses, inside jackets — all to keep his father from finding and destroying it. Now it was trashed well beyond Hubert’s mending abilities. The dark mage mask, that awful stupid thing, had been summarily ditched into the woods. Other than that, Hubert had his clothes, his textbooks, his toothbrush, his razor and some soap. He didn’t keep many possessions, because anything dear could be taken at any time.

The important stuff for his empire business was hardly permissible to keep in Garreg Mach. He and Edelgard had a safe house they kept such things at, like the Flame Emperors’ uniform. It was close enough that one could warp without tiring too much, but far enough away that the knights of Seiros would not be casually dropping by. The catch was that Lord Arundel stayed there often too, so it wasn’t truly a very secure safe house. Hubert imagined that Lord Arundel had taken Solon and Kronya to hide them there. Hubert grimaced at the thought of having to see Kronya again; it was very likely she was going to kill him given the opportunity.

Hubert’s suspension was to be spent in the 2nd floor’s council room. He was instructed to work on the student paper. Now that his right hand was back he had to practice handwriting again. He looked at the latest letter for advice he was supposed to respond to.

_Dear Shadow Adviser,_

_I recently reconnected with my best friend, oh happy day! I was extremely happy to have my Captain back in my life. However, circumstances have taken him away again. I was wondering, how does one make friends as an adult? I found it so easy in my youth, but these days people don’t seem to find my jokes as amusing, and I’m afraid I’m a little lost on how to connect with others._

_Sincerely,_

_<strike>Alois</strike> Seirosly in Need of a Friend_

Hubert stared at the letter and wondered if Seteth was in fact a master torturer. How did one make friends if not being forced to hang out with someone all the time? Hubert was not especially good at this. Generally his first interaction with someone was always him trying to make them better, which led to an argument when they inevitably didn’t appreciate his advice, and then sometimes he’d apologize but generally he just walked away.

_Dear Seirosly in Need of a Friend,_

_This is a great question you’ve stumped me with. My best friend chose me long ago, though I could not tell you why, and since then I have not made much progress in the area of personal relationships. A lesser advice columnist would leave you with the recommendation to just be yourself. However, being yourself might be the very cause of your problems, for it surely is for me._

_There will always be things that are off putting about us, whether it is something we see in ourselves, or a features others focus upon. It is possible that the people around you do not enjoy your jokes, but that does not make them bad (the jokes and/or the other people). People do not find my jokes funny either, but they make me smirk so I keep telling them for better or worse._

_If you are a person for whom friendship does not come easily, you can change yourself into someone people will like and surround yourself by those who befriend that version of you, or you can stubbornly lean into your truest self and try to find the precious few that will appreciate it. Both can be lonely paths, and neither one is necessarily right. A compromise between the two might be ideal: be the best version of yourself and hope that friends will follow._

_This may mean telling only a fraction of the puns that cross your mind. It may hurt to hold them back, but filtering them to only sharing the brightest gems will make them shine more. The people who like your jokes will flock like moths to a lantern._

_Good luck,_

_-The Shadow Adviser_

Hubert doubted Seteth was going to publish that but it felt good to write anyway. Hubert looked up to see Flayn wandering in. She was looking sad and carrying a familiar deck of cards in her tiny hands.

“Hubert, do you want to play cards?” whispered Flayn as she sat at the table with him.

“Can’t play with just two people,” said Hubert back.

Flayn sighed as she looked at the trump cards and the faded pictures on them. “Jeralt was supposed to teach me his secret fishing technique.”

Hubert felt his jaw clenching up. He really didn’t want to talk about Jeralt. Everyone was talking about Jeralt and how something terrible disguised as a student had killed him. Hubert felt like he was something terrible disguised as a student too right now.

Hubert returned to his paperwork and switched to editing for grammar to avoid thinking. Eventually Hubert heard footsteps and felt his stomach dropping as Byleth came in. She’d been holed up in her room for days and this was the first she’d been out to explore since the incident in the sealed forest. Her eyes were puffy and her lips were set in a frown.

Flayn rushed to say something extremely comforting and sweet. Byleth nodded but didn’t say anything as her red rimmed eyes traced to Hubert.

He tried to speak but his voice caught in his throat. “I’m not much for condolences,” he managed eventually. _Fuck that came out wrong_. Byleth stared at him with utter disappointment and gave a heavy sigh. She was already walking away before his brain could catch up with anything more.

Hubert couldn’t look Flayn in the eyes as she stared at him in horror that he’d just said that. He’d rather do Sky Watch than have to console someone, he was so bad stuff like this even when he didn’t feel personally responsible for their hurt. Hubert held his face in his hands and wished that he could turn back time to take it all back.

***

It was good and bad to finally have Hubert back in her shadow. Edelgard was grateful he hadn’t been expelled, but he was on fairly thin ice with the academic probation that he was desperate not to violate. He was constantly behind her now, staying silent unless spoken to, and barely interacting with anyone else. It was just like when they had first arrived at Garreg Mach. She had seen him be something more akin to a normal person in the last few months, and it was jarring to have him regress back like this. It was a painful reminder to her that this time at school was all pretend as they laid the groundwork for the coming war.

Edelgard quietly entered his room to find him laying in bed practically curled up against the wall that split their rooms. Her bed was directly on the other side. Sometimes she slept with her hand pressed against the wall and she knew he did the same. “We need to discuss the things living in the safe house,” she whispered.

“We should talk later. You really shouldn’t be in here right now,” said Hubert as he rolled over and looked at her in her pajama set. She liked to wear a very tasteful crimson pair of silk pants and matching loose shirt to sleep in. Technically she supposed the set had been sewn with a man in mind, but Edelgard had very specific tastes and she didn’t care for the cutesy sleep dresses that the imperial tailors tried to push on her.

Hubert wore the worst pajamas she’d ever seen, an old hole ridden undershirt and faded flannel pants. She tried to get him a black set like hers but he pleaded with her not to. He argued that no one saw him like this so it didn’t matter how he dressed. She argued that she had to see him, but he only countered that it would be more proper to keep their meetings to normal hours. They were no longer children sneaking though the palace plotting revenge, they were adults and despite the truth of their bond there would always be rumors they were lovers. Especially if they wore matching pajamas.

Edelgard walked over to his bed and made him move. He sat up to lean against the wall.

“I believe it is time to give up the safe house,” said Edelgard. She had already made up her mind to do so. That it just happened to contain Solon and Kronya was merely an added bonus.

Hubert made one of his soft disgruntled sounds of protest but he would not disagree with her. Edelgard continued, “It will be good for all of us if the professor were to follow up on an anonymous lead about the location of her father’s killers, don’t you agree?”

“How would you prefer that I leave the tip?” asked Hubert obediently.

“I can write it,” began Edelgard.

“No, we can’t risk this being traced back to you,” whispered Hubert. “Lord Arundel needs to think you are completely loyal to the plan. Let me take this risk.”

He was ever eager to prove himself, and eager to return to her good graces. She wondered why he thought he wasn’t in them, but then realized that perhaps it was not her forgiveness he was seeking.

She found his hand and rubbed her fingers along the tattered nail beds, “You’re biting again.” His hand softly curled into a ball to hide the evidence from her. Edelgard sighed and got to the other business that had brought her here, “We have a date now for the cabinet meeting in which Lord Arundel will name me emperor. Summons have been sent to Aegir, and Varley; we have the cooperation of Bergliez, Hevring, and Gerth.” She squeezed his hand, “This is finally happening.”

“What are my orders?” he asked.

“You will go and then stay in Enbarr overseeing the transition while I return to school. I will summon you back when we make our move,” explained Edelgard. “I want you keeping close tabs on Arundel, make sure he doesn’t try to install any of his friends into power.”

“Of course,” said Hubert. He paused, “Have you made a decision about the Marquis yet?”

“I told you, I am entrusting you with this. Whatever your choice, I will stand by it,” said Edelgard. She knew he didn’t want to make the decision but she wasn’t going to take away his chance to control his father’s fate. She was curious what he would do. Would he show the mercy his father never showed him, or would he give into his reputation and deal his father a rightful retribution? She knew Hubert struggled with how he was viewed; he was a little too comfortable killing on the battlefield and their classmates had taken note.

Edelgard despised the way other people at Garreg Mach referred to Hubert and the dehumanizing terms they used. Claude had made snide remarks more than once, chiding Hubert and calling him her lapdog as if Hubert was a cute pet to be mocked rather than a noble retainer to be respected. It made her blood boil just thinking about it, and von Reigan wasn’t even the worst offender.

Well now she was letting Hubert’s metaphorical muzzle off, and a dark part of her longed for Hubert to rip the Marquis’ throat out like the fearsome Adrestian Shepard he was. It would be a telling move: would he continue to show restraint when he was completely free to choose the outcome without threat of consequence? Or would he do as she expected the professor to do to Kronya and Solon, and refuse to hold back and kill without regret? Either way she would support him.

***

Things had settled down quite a bit at Garreg Mach in the weeks following the incident at the Sealed Forest. Actually, it was getting more than a little boring for Lysithea’s tastes. Lessons were dry and dull and Rhea hadn’t even assigned them a mission for the month. Lysithea was trying to read during the study group time, no one had come to the club in weeks, when a very floral scent filled her nose. She looked up at a bouquet that Felix was shoving in her face.

Lysithea stared dubiously at the hastily assembled arrangement, “Is this for me?”

Felix was holding it out at her in his fist, his face bright red with embarrassment, “Obviously.”

She took it uncertainly, “Why?”

Felix blustered, “We’re going on that date, now.”

With all the craziness that had been happening she just assumed he had forgotten or used it as an excuse to get out of having to take her somewhere. She wondered what on earth he had planned, “It’s late, on a school night.”

“It’s only eight,” argued Felix.

“What if Dorothea needs help with her homework?” Lysithea had become the _de facto_ Hubert during his self-imposed isolation. She found herself lecturing the Black Eagles and giving homework help as if it were her new job. She kind of liked it if she was being honest.

Felix screwed up his face, “Do you not want to go on this date?”

Lysithea shut her book and stood up, “Where are we heading?”

“The library,” started Felix.

“The library! What were the training grounds booked? Who takes a date to the library?” Lysithea shook her head, she should have never gotten a crush on Felix, what a dope.

Felix made a face at her displeased reaction, “We’re going to break into Tomas’ office.”

“Oh,” said Lysithea slowly. This was much more interesting. “A working date?”

“I was trying to think of things you liked, and snooping around seemed like something fun,” shrugged Felix. “There aren’t very many date options at the monastery. I tried brainstorming all of them with Annette and other than tea time none of them seemed very good for this time of year.”

“Well I do like snooping,” admitted Lysithea. “But what makes this a date and not just, you know, normal spying stuff?”

“Because Hubert’s not invited,” said Felix.

That was a logical argument to her as she nodded and followed him. “Don’t you think that Seteth has already cleared out all the good stuff?”

“Probably,” admitted Felix. “But he’s not sure what to look for right? You and I have a much better idea.”

That was a thrilling prospect that they might find clues that would otherwise be missed. When they got to the librarian’s office it was locked. Lysithea frowned, “Now what?”

Felix produced some tools for lock picking and got to work, “I asked Ashe to teach me. I’m getting better.”

Lock picking was an unexpectedly sexy skill realized Lysithea as she watched him fumble around the lock. The door creaked open and they snuck inside. Tomas’ office had clearly been ransacked by the knights of Seiros, which was a little disappointing.

Lysithea thumbed through the books, rare titles, but nothing too interesting. She was more interested in how Felix was crawling under the desk, “What are you doing?”

“Checking for hiding places,” said Felix as he tapped on the desk looking for hollow sounds.

Maybe Felix was smarter than she gave him credit for. She joined him under the desk as Felix found the little hollow cavity in one of the legs and found the secret panel that opened it. They produced a thin vial with paper inside.

Lysithea read the note aloud, “Shambhala sends their regards, enjoy some comforts from home — T.” She frowned, “What the fuck does that mean?” The vial contained a very strange blend of tea and rolling papers. It smelled like something she would not enjoy drinking.

Felix shrugged, “I think it’s for smoking, not for drinking.” Felix continued to search around the room, “See isn’t this fun?”

He didn’t sound convinced himself, but she was having a good time. This was exciting; it was great to get back into spy work after not doing anything for so many weeks. They pocketed weird things, including more communications that looked innocuous at first glance. They laughed as they found weird drawings and bad poems Solon had penned in his free time. All the unimportant stuff that the knights had left behind painted a very weird picture of Solon. They read passages of his diary aloud to each other. He hated Kronya almost as much as they did!

Unfortunately their laughter and giggling eventually drew some unwanted attention.

“What are you doing in here?” Seteth looked especially annoyed this evening.

Lysithea picked up a random book, “Homework!”

“Detention, both of you, my office three pm tomorrow,” said Seteth. He pointed to the door and ordered them out.

Lysithea’s jaw dropped, she never had a detention before. She silently left with Felix behind her, and when they were out of earshot she looked at Felix feeling completely irate. He shrugged and grinned, “Maybe detention can be our second date?”

“Can’t we just do tea time like a normal couple?”

Felix frowned, “Maybe. I don’t think we’re very normal though.” She conceded he might be right.

***

Hubert caught Lysithea sticking her tongue out at Seteth at 3:05 pm while the disciplinarian and Byleth argued. It looked like neither student was sitting in detention today. Byleth had a mission, a very personal mission, that she wanted the class to carry out.

Seteth did not agree, “Please, let me send the knights after these villains. You cannot go after them, they’re baiting you!”

Byleth gave him a hardened look, “I don’t care if it's a trap. I want them dead.”

“You are endangering not just your life, but the lives of your students,” argued Seteth. “Who gave you this information anyway?

Byleth made a rude gesture with her fingers at Seteth. “Doesn’t matter where I got it. My students and I are strong. We’re finishing this job.” She signaled for the Black Eagles to follow her before Seteth could say anything else.

They headed out to a place that was extremely familiar to Hubert. It was a cabin that lay at the very extreme border of the territory of Garreg Mach and the wilds that lay beyond it.

“Kronya, Solon, come out to play!” Yelled Byleth. This was the Ashen Demon finally revealing herself. The thirst for revenge in her eyes was utterly terrifying.

Come out they did. They did not appear as Monica and Tomas, but as fully realized Agarthans that stole Hubert’s breath from his throat. He’d seen Solon, the creepy hunchback, with a forehead for days and the strange eye that was surely some dark artifact, but he never glimpsed Kronya’s true form. She was a sight to behold, like a wet dream mixed with a night terror. Kronya was practically naked in her skimpy outfit, and three strange tendrils fanned out around her with sharp ends that seemed very stabby. Her hair was red, but much more orange than Monica’s, and it hung in her face much like his own.

Dorothea’s mouth hung open as she stared at Kronya’s shapely appearance in the distance, “Maybe you should have fucked her Hubie, or maybe I should have!”

Hubert was glad he hadn’t, “Not my type.”

“She probably kills people by smothering them between those two giant —”

Byleth’s battle cry cut Dorothea’s train of thought short as the battle began. Unfortunately the safe house also had it’s own guards. Hubert tried his best not to make eye contact with the empire’s soldiers. These were people he knew, even if only as acquaintances.

“You ought to retreat,” he yelled in warning before firing off a spell. Some of them took the hint. Regrettably many were loyal to Arundel over Edelgard. Hubert cut through them like sheers sliding through silk.

He stayed as close as possible to Edelgard and Byleth through the fight. Soon they were nearing their targets.

“Allow me to assist you, professor,” said Hubert in a deep voice as his fingers spun with purple light.

Byleth regarded him coolly and then nodded as they charged forward. It would be her kill in the end, and he would not dare try to take it. Yet he could help her ensure victory.

He had given her the tip in person, secretly of course, even though Lady Edelgard had wanted him to do it anonymously. He wanted to let the professor know that in this matter, he was on her side, even if this might be the only common ground they shared. It was the closest thing he could do for an apology.

“Hubie, I’m so glad you’re finally here,” said Kronya as she laughed. One sharp tendril shot forward.

Hubert jerked out of the way as the tendril came snaking along the line of his jaw. Painful, yes, but it didn’t go into his neck as she’d intended. Hubert laughed manically as he threw everything he had at her.

Hubert dreamed of killing Kronya but in the end it was Solon who had the pleasure of ripping out her heart to use in some insane spell.

“Get back Vestra,” ordered Byleth as she raised up her whip sword.

“Professor wait!” he shouted as she ran into the spell.

Hubert and Lysithea watched the dark magic spell unfold in shocked silence as it sucked up their professor and Kronya into the darkness. “What the hell was that?” Lysithea’s jaw hung slack at the extreme display of the Agarthan’s power.

Hubert didn’t know how to answer her. He’d never imagined such a thing was possible.

Edelgard looked dazed as Solon mocked them until suddenly Byleth’s sword cut through the nothingness, and killed him too. Her hair and eyes had gone from a dark teal to light green. She seemed almost divine as she regarded them with pride at a fight well fought.

Monica von Ochs, or rather the evil thing that had stolen her skin, was dead. The job was done.

***

Hubert had been deftly avoiding Lysithea and Felix for weeks but he couldn’t possibly ignore what was happening with Rhea and Byleth. Their professor was some sort of second coming of Seiros? Surely Hubert had opinions to share on this, or at least some sarcastic commentary.

Lysithea successfully cornered him after class one afternoon, “Hey, what’s the plan for this revelation?”

“I’m not going to be around,” growled Hubert. “I have business in Enbarr.”

“What? What kind of business?” demanded Lysithea. What the hell was so important that he was going to leave when there was a chance to explore the crypts beneath the monastery? That seemed like Hubert’s ideal habitat.

Hubert folded his arms and looked at her impassively, “Why are you still hanging around me?”

Lysithea faltered, “We’re conducting an investigation, we have their name now, we can find out more about them.” She pulled out Solon’s diary, it was chock full of great tidbits, “Felix and I broke into Tomas’ office and found cool stuff, you really need to check it out.”

“Investigation, please,” Hubert muttered in disbelief. “We got people killed,” said Hubert in a whisper. “The people in Remire, the students turned into demonic beasts, Jeralt, they wouldn’t have died if we hadn’t tried to handle the Slithers ourselves.”

Lysithea’s throat got tight, “But—”

“Why don’t you just go date Felix and forget about this?” suggested Hubert. “Go try to be normal, at least as normal as you can be.”

Lysithea frowned at the stinging comment, “Why are you being so mean?”

“Have you met me?” asked Hubert harshly. “I’m sorry, did you think we were friends?”

Lysithea felt her fists clenching, “Hubert you’re being stupid.”

“No, I’m being realistic,” said Hubert. “Three people cannot take down a massive secret organization spread across an entire continent.”

“Not with that attitude,” hissed Lysithea. Taking down the Slithers was the most important thing to her in the world right now. She felt her chance to do some damage to them slipping through her fingers.

Hubert gave her heavy look that silenced her protests. “I’m leaving school. I’m not graduating.” He paused and looked around to ensure no one was listening, “Next time you see me, you might not like me very much anymore, and that’s alright. So let’s stop pretending to be friends, and acknowledge that we’re just both broken weird people tortured by the same assholes.”

Lysithea felt her lip tremble, “Why are you being like this?”

“So it won’t be difficult when I decide to go places you don’t want to follow,” snapped Hubert. She could hear a slight quiver in his breath as he put a gloved hand on her shoulder, “Places I don’t want you to follow.”

Lysithea wiped her running nose on her sleeve, “What are you talking about?”

“The Slithers work with the Empire. I work for the Empire, do the math,” said Hubert. His voice dropped extremely low, “I’m going to embed myself within their ranks, and poison them from the inside like a broken dark seal. I’m willing to die to do this, but I won’t ask you to do the same.”

“You don’t have to protect me from them,” said Lysithea as she brushed his hand away. “They’ve already taken _everything_ from me, including my life. I want to take something from them. I want to make them bleed. So don’t tell me where I can and can’t go.” She crossed her arms and looked up at him. “When are you going to Enbarr?”

Hubert looked at her in disbelief, “You’re not coming.”

He might not know it yet, but she most certainly was. She frowned, “You just said three people can’t take them down, why are you acting like you can do this alone?”

Hubert looked like wanted to throttle her as she followed after him. “Come on Hubie it’ll be fun! A road trip!”

“No!” said Hubert. “Seriously go away.”

“I read your column, you said be the best version of yourself and you’ll make friends,” protested Lysithea as she tried catch up. “Guess what asshole, you tricked me into becoming your friend! Even if you are mean and dumb sometimes.”

He paused and turned, his chartreuse eyes filled with ire, “I don’t write the shadow adviser.”

“_Pfft_, okay,” she scoffed. “Listen, friends don’t let friends take dangerous fun missions alone. I’m coming.”

“It won’t be fun,” started Hubert.

“Sure it will, I’ll be there,” she said brightly as she linked arms with him, “When do we leave?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was curious as to why Hubert and Flayn are in the same room on the 2nd floor during explore for Chapter 10; I assume it's for the contrast in their dialogue but maybe they're just hanging out. 
> 
> RIP Hubert's stuffed pegasus
> 
> Thank you to everyone who followed along and left comments! It's much appreciated and very encouraging. 
> 
> So, next fic, the gang hits the road?


End file.
